


Warm

by THiah



Series: Road Diverged [1]
Category: TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental secret "dating?", F/M, POV Multiple, Raph's feelings of insecurity and unworthiness, Sir not appearing in this fic: Leo, Slow Burn, Social Turtles, Twenty-Something Mutant Ninja Turtles, Uneasy acquaintances to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THiah/pseuds/THiah
Summary: [~~ Red & Orange ~~]Really, Raph has no idea that this young woman will be any different than the other people his brothers have saved. She's just one more face in the crowd of victims that hang out in the lair a few times a week. Until things called"attraction"and"emotions"start harassing him.** Rating will go up to Mature in Chapter 10, Explicit in Chapter 15.- Miscellany 2003 Series events as the background- Some 2007 movie plots- Look of the Bayverse turtles* Raph and the ofc swear frequently* Explicit sexual scenes and chapters will be marked----- Ahaha I forgot to mention the title comes from the Robert Frost poem. XD
Relationships: Casey Jones/April O'Neil (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT)/Original Female Character(s), Raphael & Michelangelo & Donatello, Raphael (TMNT)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Road Diverged [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681042
Comments: 16
Kudos: 13





	1. Attack

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rooftop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5787088) by [justalilwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalilwriter/pseuds/justalilwriter). 
  * Inspired by [The DJ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196110) by [SirenNightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade). 
  * Inspired by [The Dancer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190455) by [SirenNightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A few extremely minor corrections were made to this chapter on 6/25/2020.)

Cass walked swiftly down the dark streets of Manhattan, tugging at her backpack straps. There were street lamps every several yards but dark patches hung between them. She’d gotten out late from work because there had been a banquet during the day and banquets meant nice dishes that she as pit lead was responsible for. Thus she’d missed both the bus and the subway that would take her home. Knowing that the wait for the next stop of either mode of transportation was at least half an hour, she decided she needed the exercise. Cass wanted to get home and she could walk the distance by the time the next bus or subway came.

A hand grabbed her from the shadowy alley as she passed, yanking her off her feet. She gasped as she felt her sweatshirt catch around her throat and her heavy backpack awkwardly pull in the opposite direction. “Look what we found, got ourselves some fun tonight!” Cass tried to scream when she saw nearly a dozen young men around her, each bearing a jagged purple dragon tattoo on their arms. She knew of them, all New Yorkers did, even nonnatives like her, from their antics on the news from the last five years. Fear threaded through her.

The one who grabbed her covered her mouth, snagging her wrists together behind her back with his other hand, her arms bent awkwardly around her backpack. She tried to block out their comments about her body, what cash or cards she might htave on her. She wasn’t strong and she had hardly any weight to her but she’d be damned if she didn’t go down fighting, not while there was breath in her body.

She bit down as hard as she could on the hand over her mouth.

The Purple Dragon yelped and released her mouth, pulling at her wrists in his hands. Pain shot through her shoulder joints as the others stepped closer. Two of them brandished bats and three wielded generic kitchen meat knives. Cass tried to yank her wrists free but hands from the other men reached for her, held her in place.

The man holding her let go to rub his hand but two of his friends replaced him and her mouth was covered again before she could scream. One, the biggest, stepped forward and spat, “We don’t let bitches get away with stupid things without punishment. Batter up.”

She started to cry and tried jerking but could never match two strong men holding her in place. One with a bat stepped forward, tapping it against his palm. “We got a feisty one tonight guys!”

Holding her breath, Cass waited until he was within range and lashed out with one foot, catching him in the family jewels. She hoped that if she held out long enough someone would pass by and see her. The Dragons jeered at her. “That earns you special punishment bitch!” the leader sneered. He pulled a wide butcher’s knife from a leather holder at his hip, gripped it with both hands, and raised it high over one shoulder. The surrounding group hooted and hollered. One said, “We gonna get us some blood tonight!”

Cass trembled and squeezed her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks, and hoped they made it quick.

A thud and a squishy crunch, like a body going down, hit her ears and she opened her eyes.

“Thanks for cushioning my fall dickhead!”

Something massive had hit the Dragon with incredible speed - having jumped from the roof? The shadowy mass and the Dragon slid into the wall from the jumper’s force. The shadow jumped up but the Dragon stayed crumpled on the ground. Cass yanked her eyes from the sight.

“Shit, it's one of them! One of the turtles! Hold her while we take care of him!”

_‘Turtle? What the hell?’_

“Ya fuckwads want an asswhoopin’?!”

The alley was too dark and the shadow moved too inhumanly fast for her to properly see it. The Dragons surrounded it, attacking three at a time, and the shadow easily took them down. Only one Dragon kept hold of her and Cass used the distraction to drop to the ground, becoming dead weight and taking him with her. Her heavy backpack yanked at her shoulders. She tried to kick out behind her but he was faster, trying to stand, knife still in his hand. The cool metal bit into her leg and she yelped, blood flowing from the wound.

Sounds of fighting jangled around her and traded insults told her the shadow was masculine.

Clasping her injury and looking up, Cass discovered that in less than ten minutes about ten men had been taken out by the hulking shadow. The Dragons were scattered about the alley, laying in lumps. Some were groaning and some were unconscious. A few of them had blood on their arms or hands, the liquid reflecting in the minor moonlight, and she could see bare skin that would bruise quite nicely the next day. The one that had been holding her threw the knife at the shadow and turned, fleeing to the street.

Or tried.

The knife was batted away with _ease_ and something metal glinted in the pale moonlight as it was thrown. Deadly accuracy pinned the man to the wall by his overshirt. The object - a shuriken, if she recalled correctly - was about the size of her open palm and had multiple sharp points and a hole in the center. The Dragon whimpered.

The shadow rounded up the bodies, tying their hands together. The whimpering man was punched out and dragged to his friends. Finally the shadow turned his attention to her. Cass could feel it looking her over and the ‘shit’ that fell from his mouth indicated he’d seen her leg wound.

Very slowly he approached her but didn’t step out from the shadows. “Look babe, I just saved ya. I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I promise. That needs bandaging but ya gotta promise ya won’t scream. The Silent Avengers shit the news talks about? I’mma one of ‘em.”

Cass wracked her brain trying to figure out why he remained hidden and didn’t want her to scream. The Purple Dragons had called him a turtle. Maybe he had some disfigurement that made him look like a turtle? He was right though, the ‘Silent Avengers’ had been on the news for a few years now, despite her not being a native New Yorker. The victims had been reluctant to talk about their rescuers, other than to be appreciative. Whatever his appearance, she knew she could trust him.

She nodded mutely. The shadow eased into the light and she instantly understood why the Dragons had called him a turtle and he’d warned her against screaming: He _was_ a humanoid turtle. Cass felt the scream bubble up in her throat and clamped her hands over her mouth, squeaking instead. Then she gagged and spit, wiping her bloodied mouth on her sleeve and replacing her hands on her leg. _That was shittingly stupid, Cass!_

Slowly the turtle approached her, hands up and open, and she got a better look at him. He was _green_ , massive and muscular, with a few scars dotting his pebbly body. He was barefoot and two-toed; dirty, worn athletic wraps wound around his feet, legs, three-fingered hands, and arms. He wore an eclectic assortment of athletic padding on his knees and elbows and an athletic guard along one shoulder and arm. The only actual piece of clothing on him was a pair of large black-blue biker shorts, topped with a knotted, white karate belt and a thick, black leather belt that held a hodgepodge of pouches. A long, red piece of fabric covered the top of his head and tails trailed down each side of his face.

A wickedly deadly looking pair of small tridents hung from his hips, handles wrapped in worn red strips; he had a shell on his back, and what looked like body armor went from his collar bone, across his chest and stomach, and down to disappear beneath his shorts.

Opening her mouth, Cass forced herself to breathe deep and not scream. He’d asked her not to scream. Now she understood why; why the victims on the news hadn’t described their saviors. Finally he reached her and before he crouched down, he _towered_ over her. “I’m gonna roll up yer pant leg.” She blinked at him, then remembered her injury; she removed her hands and shuddered a little but his touch was surprisingly gentle. He studied the wound a moment, then swore; digging in one pouch he produced a white gauze wrap and a bottle of water. He talked as he cut off her pant leg for better access and gingerly washed the blood away and wrapped up her calf. “I can wrap it up but I’m not a doctor. Far’s I can tell, ya need stitches.” He offered her the water bottle and she dribbled some on her hands, wiping her mouth as best she could, and rubbing her hands on her jeans. _Damn, she liked this sweatshirt too._ “Closest hospital is too far and too public, ambulance’ll probably take a while. If ya live within a few blocks I can take ya home, otherwise the lair’s pretty close and Don can stitch ya up.”

Cass started, _There was more than one of him??_

Her mind reeled. She lived several blocks away… A _w hell, he had saved her and he hadn’t tried anything. Other than the gruffness of his voice he’s been practically a perfect gentleman, considering the situation. They have been on the news for years..._ “I ah, live several more miles over. So I guess… I guess I have to go with you.”

He nodded. “Think ya can walk?”

She was pretty sure she couldn’t. She was pretty sure he knew she couldn’t. Cass was pretty sure the question was a formality, not quite a warning he was about to get into her personal space and pick her up. She really didn’t like strangers in her space; ‘Maybe’ was on her lips but she didn’t say it. Obviously they needed to hurry and he obviously didn’t want to be seen.

Sucking in a breath, she answered, “Don’t think so.”

“Well ok then; take off yer backpack.”

Cass shuffled the heavy bag from her shoulders and he easily slung it over one of his huge ones. He repositioned himself and slowly leaned into her, giving her time to adjust, to tell him no. Cass said nothing, just stiffened as she was scooped up by powerful, green arms and tucked against his - was that another turtle shell?? A body that had just taken out a dozen Purple Dragons. Arms that could hold her down while he did whatever the hell he wanted, hands that could _kill_ her.

Arms that held her gently, firmly, against him.

She studied the pale yellow-tan shell in front of her face. Grooves separated different plates and it was hard - . Cass mentally laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought. He was basically a human-like turtle and she was surprised his shell wasn’t soft? It certainly wasn’t a damn silk pillow.

Pausing at the corner, he checked that the area was empty before running swiftly into the street. He seemed to be searching for something and Cass discovered it was a manhole when he dropped down next to the first one he came across. Even holding her in one arm, he easily pulled up the heavy lid and dropped gracefully down to the level below. Cass clapped her hands over her yelp.

“I’m going to put ya down a sec while I call in the Dragons and get the cover. Think ya can stand that long?”

“Yeah, sure.” _'You better not put me down in any fucking garbage.'_

He let go of her legs but kept one strong arm around her back until Cass found her balance. She leaned against the ladder, keeping her weight off her injured leg, and he climbed back up. He didn’t actually return to the surface but paused just before his head poked out. He pulled a small phone from one of his many pouches and called the police to report the Purple Dragons. Snapping the phone shut he shoved it back into the pouch, pulled the cover over one-handed, and dropped back down a few feet from her. He was surprisingly agile for being so massive.

Anthropomorphic athletic humanoid turtle sounded like a kids’ Saturday morning cartoon.

She heard the turtle land in a crouch and stood. Even though she couldn’t see well in the dark sewer tunnel, when he reached his full height Cass sensed he was most of a foot taller than her 5’9” frame. He must have been hunched over in the alley because he had _not_ seemed _that_ enormous then. She jerked as he neared her, resisting the urge to run away. “Ready to get moving?”

“Uh, why don’t you just leave me here? Up there?”

“Cuz ya’d be a fucking sitting duck, that’s why; the Dragons keep track of where their gangs are and go in for clean up.” Her eyes widened and he must have sensed her anxiety. “They don’t kill, not at the start, just threaten.” She heard him breath deep. “Yer leg needs stitching. There’s some things that need goin’ over, plus it's kinda tradition.”

“ _‘Tradition’_?”

“We gotta get moving. Here,” she heard rummaging, “if I give ya a flashlight will ya shut yer trap?”

Gesturing wildly with her arms, Cass said, “You’re a fucking fighting human-turtle hybrid, who’s been doing this for years?! We’re in the sewers? I’m not going to have questions?”

Grumbling roughly, he swore under his breath. “Look, we gotta get moving. I promise yer quesitons’ll be answered.” He clicked on the flashlight and gently tossed it to her, aiming perfectly for her hands, which she caught despite her awkward balance and the darkness. Usually a softball was thrown at her in usually daylight, not a twirling, lit flashlight in the dark.

She pointed it at him, lowering it when he jerked his head and narrowed his eyes. “When we get to… wherever we’re going.”

“The lair, yeah.”

They stood for a few minutes in a staring match. Cass was pretty sure he’d just out-stubborn her by sheer force of will. Or leave her. Finally sighing, she relaxed her body and relented, asking, “What’s your name?”

“Raphael.”

He didn’t ask but she offered anyway. “My name is Cass. Thanks for saving me.”

“Ya done talkin’?” he took a step closer, closing the distance between them.

Cass snapped, “No actually. I have a roommate waiting up for me, give me a second to text her.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket but it was out of her hands before she’d turned the screen on. “Hey! What the hell?”

He moved a few feet from her, waving a device over her phone. “That’s my phone!” Cass reached for it but her injured leg meant she couldn’t leave the ladder.

“An’ it might be bugged.”

“The fuck it isn’t!”

Shrugging, he mumbled, “The fuck it might be. I won’t _break it._ ”

She pouted, he smirked, his machine gave a happy little beep.

“It ain’t, catch.”

The phone was tossed with more force than the flashlight but with perfect aim. Her right hand full with his flashlight, Cass deftly caught her phone with both. Two decades of softball hadn’t prepared her for catching things in near blackness but apparently was good enough. She thought for a moment and tapped out a lie to her roommate about forgetting about a group project so she wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. That left time for an ‘accident’ to happen to her leg and for her to be stuck in the hospital for at least the next morning. She hated it but she’d tell her roommates not to come help because she was fine and would be home later. Shit, she’d have to plan asking her classmates for notes from class the first couple of days. Her thumb hovered over the send button but she held the phone out to the turtle, who stepped closer and nodded, she hit ‘send.’ Cass scrubbed at her face and moved to put her phone in her pocket.

A strong hand gripped her wrist. “Turn it off, all the way.”

Cass glared at him but followed the instruction.

“Ya done?”

Snapping her mouth shut at his almost menacing attitude, she nodded. He didn’t give her the polite hesitation he did earlier, fluidly bending to pick her up. She squeaked as his nearness, speed, and power.

The turtle, Raphael, ran swiftly through the sewers, the flashlight a tiny speck in the darkness.


	2. Lair

They walked in the sewers in semi-tense silence. How do you start a conversation with someone you just met? How do you talk when one was being attacked and was injured and the other was the anthropomorphic turtle rescuer? They walked in silence. 

He felt her tense slightly when he reached what appeared to be a dead end. Raphael reached out with the hand holding her legs to twist the pipe that revealed the entrance to the lair. Cass watched the wall retract to the side and dim light streamed through the opening. She clicked the flashlight off. 

Raph stepped into his partially-lit home and the wall closed behind them. He had the girl help him grab a few towels and a water bottle from the nearby shelf and immediately noticed that Mikey had fallen asleep with the TV set to medium level, again. Knowing the late hour, Don and Master Splinter were probably sleeping. Unless Don was engrossed in a project. Raph pushed a button next to the door; Don had rigged up an alert system for when they had to bring victims home. Green meant that everything was fine and there was a new guest in the lair. Yellow meant that the victim hadn’t seen them and one of their human friends would come by as soon as possible. Red meant that the victim had seen them and freaked out. There were indicator lights in each of their rooms as well as the lab and living room. There was a fourth button that would sound an alarm on Don’s wrist phone if the victim needed immediate attention and couldn’t be left alone. Raph pushed the green button, then set Cass down on an empty couch and handed her the towels, laying one under her leg. He set her backpack on the couch next to her.

Unwrapping the gauze, he instructed, “Try to get some of the blood off, but be careful. Don’s the medic and I’m pretty sure ya need stitches now but I’m not sure where he is. I’ll be right back.” He pointed to the sleeping turtle on the other couch. “Mikey talks in his sleep but he probably won’t wake up; kid could sleep through an earthquake and not know it; snores too.” She nodded and Raph went to find Don.

-

Cass dabbed gently at the blood on her calf, whispers of pain blossomed when she touched the wound but she managed to get some of the blood off.

While Raphael was gone Cass surveyed her surroundings. She glanced at the sleeping turtle in the living room. He had an _X-Men_ comic book over his face and orange bandana tails trailed along the couch. Other than that he looked mostly exactly like Raphael, though Cass couldn’t tell because Mikey was laying down and a blanket was pulled across him. There were two nunchucks lying on the floor within arm’s reach of him, orange cloth wrapped around the handles.

The turtles’ home was a massive, man-made domed cavern that Cass guessed was at least a mile beneath the streets. A couple of nice size houses could fit in the open area she was in. She saw the door they had come through and several stairways going up to a second story and more stairs to a third. She was clearly in the living room area: Three couches and two overstuffed chairs were around the TV, which was currently playing a marathon of _Stargate: SG-1_. A few bean bags were off to the side a few feet away and several blankets were scattered over the furniture and stacked on a shelf along the wall. The main TV was about three times the size of a normal household’s TV, with several normal-sized TVs surrounding it, all currently off. There were several shelves of DVDS, blu-rays, gaming stations, and games on both sides of the main TV.

She scanned the rest of the ground floor and found several doorways leading out of the main room. _‘Of course, the sewers are extensive. They would need multiple access points.’_ Each doorway had a clothing rack and shelf combination next to it; clothing racks like what one found at Ikea or second hand stores. The racks each had trench coats and a multitude of hats, earmuffs, and scarves hanging from them. There were various colors but primarily red, orange, blue, and purple. _‘I wonder if there are four turtles, one for each primary color?’_ There were also stacks of towels on the shelves, assumedly for the exact reason Cass was sitting in their living room. 

There was a large kitchen and dining area off to one side, the usual cabinets and appliances looking odd sticking into the wide open area. The counters had a smattering of small kitchen appliances and utensils on them and what looked like hand knitted towels hung from the stove and fridge handles. The large table was a few feet from the kitchen area and had six chairs around it. 

A washing machine, dryer, folding counter, and ironing board were on another side of the large area, the appliances again looking odd outside of a normal room. Various bottles of detergent were on a wall shelf. An open door led to what looked like a bathroom. 

Most of the rest of the doors around the room on the ground floor were closed, with only a few open and leading into what looked like bedrooms. 

She heard Raphael return, along with a second set of footsteps. 

“Cass, this is my brainiac brother, Donatello. Donnie, Cass.”

Her earlier thought about the colors proved correct: This new turtle was wearing a purple bandana. And a lot of computer and gaming hardware on his body. He was taller and thinner, and only slightly less muscular, than Raphael. 

He gave a little wave, then pushed a pair of glasses up his face, bent, and examined her leg. “Let’s take a look. Tell me exactly what happened, especially if you made body fluid contact with them.”

“That’s nasty.” He gave an inattentive nod, still working at her leg. “Several Purple Dragons attacked me. They held me by my shoulders and my wrists. They held my arms back and pulled at my shoulder joints. I bit one of them in the hand but didn’t draw blood. I kneed one in the nuts. They cut my leg; the knife looked clean but I don’t know.”

“Did any of their blood get on you?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“Good, that’s good.” He leveled magnified eyes at her. “I’m going to take a blood sample later, just to be sure.” Cass’ eyes widened and she nodded. Donatello poked at her leg and Cass hissed. “Sorry, I had to see how you reacted.”

“As long as you tell me you don’t have to amputate it you can do whatever you need to. My orthodontist tells me I have a high pain tolerance but braces and softball cleats are different than a knife in my leg. None of those hurt like hell.”

Donatello chuckled. “No, I won’t have to amputate it. But it is a good thing Raph got me when he did, this can’t wait until morning. It needs stitches now. You’ll have to stay off your feet for a week and I’ll have to check it a few days from now and then remove the stitches after that week. We’ll figure out how to get you home tomorrow.”

Cass jerked a little when he said a week. She had classes and the dishpit and intramural softball. And roommates. What was she supposed to tell them? _‘Don’t worry about me girls. I’m holed up in the sewers for a day with three anthropomorphic turtles and a stitched cut on my leg because the Purple Dragons attacked me and I can’t go to the real doctor.’_ She breathed in deep and reminded herself they hadn’t hurt her yet and she had heard about them on the news several times over the last two years. “Ok. I’ll have to call my roommates and figure out a lie they’ll believe about where I am. I’ll have to email some friends about class notes and turning in my homework. And call work that I won’t be in for a while. How long do I have to stay off it after that week?”

The purple-banded turtle nodded to the red, who moved to pick her up. Raphael looked at her and Cass nodded her permission. He scooped her up, grabbed her backpack, and they followed Donatello. “The cut isn’t too deep, just long. The stitches will only be in for the week and as long as you do basic stretches to keep it conditioned while you’re off it you should be able to walk just fine after they're removed. You will need to use crutches for the first week while the stitches are in. I don’t recommend strenuous activity for the week after. You’ll have to keep it clean and I’ll want another check up at the end of the second week.”

The trio entered one of the closed doors, set a fair distance from the rest. Donatello turned on the lights and Cass felt like she’d walked into a work room from _Mythbusters_. It was shocking; she hadn’t expected an inventor’s dream. It was slightly less organized than the TV show but the room held shelves upon shelves of a miscellany of equipment, tools, and a random assortment of _stuff_. While about two-thirds of it was mechanical, the rest looked medical. A few hospital beds and IV holders were in one corner, along with shelves of pills and liquid solutions. A large TV surrounded by a few smaller ones were along one wall and a complex set up of computers and monitors were along another. “ _Damn_. Brainiac indeed. Looks like _Mythbusters_ would be happy here.”

Donatello chuckled. “Yes, I’m the book-smart tech-geek of the family.” He indicated one of the hospital beds in the medical area and Raphael set her down there, hopping up on the bed opposite her, and set down her backpack. He pulled out a trident to twirl it, apparently disinterested in the procedure. His eyes would flick between the weapon and her, giving him away. Maybe he didn’t like the medical aspect of things, which Cass could sympathize with. Donatello began washing her leg with a stinging sterilizing solution. Cass grit her teeth against the minor pain. “Are you allergic to any kind of medicine?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good, that’s really good.” Donatello pulled a vial off the shelf and a packaged syringe from a box. While opening the syringe, he explained, “This is a local anesthetic. I’m going to inject it into your leg to numb it while I stitch up.” While he focused on the syringe and the vial, Cass couldn’t tear her eyes away from the syringe. She didn’t have a phobia of needles per se, but they certainly weren’t her favorite. 

“Donnie, y'er stuck in doctor mode, babe’s shakin’.”

Cass realized she was indeed trembling; it had been that kind of fucked up night.

The bespeckled turtle finished with the needle and glanced at her. “Sorry.” Cass shrugged; not really anything that could be done. Donatello picked up a clipboard and pen and handed them to a surprised Rapahel, who sheathed the trident with a shrug and took them. 

“I - I don’t like needles. Don’t tell me when you poke me, don’t count down, just do it. Don’t - don’t tell me when you start _stitching_ me either.”

He nodded, then pointed to Raphael, who began asking her questions. With a last lingering look at the needle, Cass turned to the bulkier turtle. “Name?” he grunted.

“Cassandra Renee Lyons. Don’t call me Cassie, everyone calls me Cass.” Anticipating the next few questions, she supplied, “October 2, 1998, I’m twenty-one and a half. Five foot nine inches, one hundred fifty-five pounds. I don’t smoke anything or do - ” she winced as Donatello inserted the syringe into her leg. “ - any kind of drugs and I have a few drinks every few weeks with friends. I’m not on any medications.” She waited while Raphael found the questions on the form and filled them in.

Swallowing, he hesitantly asked the next few questions, eyes on the clipboard. “Are ya sexually active?”

“No.” Cass’ cheeks heated.

“Have ya ever been?”

“No.” Her cheeks became warmer. 

“Have you had - “ he stumbled over the words.

“Have you had all the standard shots?” Donatello asked. 

He was standing at a counter, working with the stitching needle and thread and Cass tried not to think of him _stitching_ up her _flesh_. She blanched and swallowed before answering. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” She forced herself to look back over at Raphael. 

“Raph you can skip the next five or so questions, the ones you can’t pronounce.”

His eyes skimmed down the clipboard. “Do ya eat healthy and are ya active?”

“I try to eat relatively healthy and I’m fairly active with work, walking around campus, and intramural volleyball and softball.”

“When was the last time ya were sick?”

“I get the usual stuffy nose, cough, and sore throat during the winter, but that was last year. I’m sure I’ll get it again this winter. It's always mild. I haven’t had any major kind of sickness since chicken pox as a kid. I had salmonella when I was about two.”

Raphael scribbled down her answer, then asked, “When was the last time ya saw a doctor and what for?”

“Uuuh… I haven’t been to the doctor in years. I think the last time was when I was in fifth grade and was in a minor car accident and I had a black eye from the air bag. I’ve been to the orthodontist, dentist, and optometrist in the last two years.”

More scribbling, then he flipped the page over. “I think that’s it.” 

“It seems you’re in pretty healthy condition, all variables included. How healthy do you eat?” Donatello asked. 

“Fruits and vegetables every day, I don’t eat out much or eat frozen or microwavable foods often; working in food service helps. I mean I love the usual like pizza and hamburgers but I don’t indulge in, like, a case of pop a day.”

“Great.” He traded Raphael the clipboard for a bedpan. 

Raphael scrunched up his face in disgust.

“How do you think _I_ feel?”

He rolled his eyes.

Donatello glanced at his watch. “The anesthetic should have kicked in by now.” He pushed some buttons on the remote strapped to his wrist. Cass heard the faint crackle of a TV behind her and twisted around. The large TV was now on, Netflix’s red logo splashed across it. “Do you have a preference?”

Cass bit her lip. Aw hell, who were they to judge her? “Do you have Disney’s new streaming service?” 

He nodded, “We have just about _everything_.”

“ _Tangled_?”

“Sure thing.

A gruff _teh_ sounded behind her but she ignored it; _she_ was the one getting stitched up.

By the time Flynn had finished stealing the crown, Cass felt like someone was in her personal space. Glancing down, she saw Donatello pushing at the flesh near her wound. “Can you feel that?” 

She shook her head no.

“Good.” He nodded back to the TV and Cass tore her eyes away.

Eventually she nodded off, startling when she was gently shaken awake. A bespeckled green and purple face filled her vision and Cass jerked away, then her memory of the night caught up with her. Donatello made a shushing noise. “It's ok Cass, do you remember me?”

Scrubbing at her face, she mumbled something in the general area of affirmative.

“Heh, ok. I have some medicine I need you to take now, to ward off infection. You’ll have to take it twice a day. Can you do that for me?” Nod. “Good.” He put two pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other, Cass gently pushed away the glass and dry-swallowed the pills. Donatello put a pill bottle in her hand. “Do you need to shower tonight?”

She should, she was gross from work. Cass shook her head no. She could do laundry tomorrow.

“Ok; when you do I need to give you instructions on the stitches in your leg. If it's alright with you, I’m going to take a sample of your blood quick so my machines can do their work tonight and I’ll have an answer for you in the morning.”

Cass grimaced. “Yeah, get it over with.”

“Still don’t want to know?”

“Right in one.”

She’d had blood samples drawn a few times over the years and this time was no different - other than the obvious ones; it might have hurt more due to the fucked up night she was having.

Donatello put the vial of her blood into a big, silvery machine and came back over to her. “Raph is going to put you to bed now then. We’ll have some crutches for you in the morning; they’re in storage. Do you know how to adjust them or do you need help?”

“Pretty sure if ’m awake I can handle crutches.”

“Good. Do not put any weight on your leg for a week, ok?”

“‘kay.”

“Feel free to sleep in tomorrow alright?”

“I think that’s a fucking good idea.”

“Sleep well.”

“Hey, uh, thanks, y’know, for stitching me up.”

“You’re welcome, my pleasure.”

Raphael came into her field of vision and didn’t wait for permission this time. He took her to the bathroom she’d seen near the laundry room earlier. “D’ya need help?” he asked, not looking at her as he set her down. Testingly, Cass braced against the doorframe, then shifted into the bathroom. Keeping her hands on the sink, she gently hopped into the small room. “Nope.”

“Great,” he grunted. “Toiletries are in the mirror cabinet.” He pulled the door closed.

 _‘Boy is he not talkative.’_ Cass rinsed her mouth, brushed her teeth, and carefully maneuvered her pants off to use the toilet. Getting them back up was a bit easier and after washing her hands, she turned back to the door and opened it. 

He didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at her again, just scooped her up and walked to one of the open doorways. The rooms off from the living room that had looked like bedrooms were now explained as guest rooms of a sort, because that’s where Raphael brought her. There was a, probably freshly made from the straight edge of the sheets, bed in one corner and a dresser next to it. A lamp was atop it, along with a clock and a nightlight, the outlet between the dresser and the bed. As he set her and her backpack down, Raphael grunted, “What do you sleep in?” as he pulled open the drawers.

Glancing at her leg, Cass bit the inside of her lip. Usually she slept in shorts and a tank top in the warm spring nights. Shorts and pants were probably a bad idea with stitches. “Is there an overly large t-shirt in there?”

He dug for a moment, then flung one at her. It was a brightly colored tie-dyed pink and yellow circus tent. “D’ya need help?” He wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing on closing the drawers.

Cass was about to ask what with when it clicked. “N-no, I think I can manage.” She had been fine in the bathroom after all.

Raphael pulled a water bottle out from the bottom drawer and put it on the top of the dresser. “Don said ya had to take pills tomorrow, don’t forget. Don’ll kill me if ya pull those stitches. These buttons here,” he pointed at buttons similar to the ones by the lair’s entrance, “will call us if you need anything. If it's related to your stitches, push Don’s purple one. If it's anything else, push my red one. Mikey’s asleep and Leo - '' A flash of hurt skirted swiftly across his face. “Leo ain’t here. Need anything else?”

Sarcastically she retorted, “Not unless you can erase the last few hours.” Sighing, she spoke in a quieter voice, “Thanks, for all this.” Cass waved at the room at large.

He only nodded. 

“Uh, good night then.”

“Night,” he muttered and left, turning the lights off, leaving her with the soft glow of the dresser lamp.

Wishing for her comfy pj pants, Cass knew she couldn’t be choosy. Wriggling out of her blood-stained jeans, she tossed them towards the door. She’d throw them away tomorrow. She traded her sweatshirt and long-sleeved shirt for the pink and yellow circus tent, and sighed. In the morning she’d ask if they had anything that could remove the blood from her sweatshirt; hopefully it was salvageable. Glancing at the dressor, she decided a change of clothes was tomorrow’s problem. Cass debated a moment on the nightlight, eventually plugging it in. Waking up in a strange bed in a strange room would be eased a bit if she could see. 

Cass glanced at the clock on the dresser, which read 12:48 am, as she crawled under the covers. _‘So, Raphael, Donatello, Mikey, and Leo. … Is it possible that it's Michelangelo and Leonardo? That would follow the pattern. I can’t believe that there are four fucking_ anthropomorphic turtles _named after_ Renaissance artists _living in the gawdamn sewers that fight the Purple Dragons. What even is my life?_

_‘I owe them big time; they totally saved my ass.’_

She hoped sleep would claim her quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol… what even is the flow of time… When I first retyped this chapter ten years after I wrote it, I didn’t have a timeline planned. Originally Cass thinks about wearing pants and a long-sleeve in “the crisp autumn nights” for pjs and she’ll get the seasonal cold again “in a few months”. But in the next few chapters when she calls her mom, they say they’ll see each other during Cass’ “summer break.” Cass calling her mom is new, though obviously planned. I just have to pay attention. LOOOLLL.


	3. Nightmare

Raphael awoke with a start. A glance at his alarm clock told him it was almost four in the morning. He usually didn’t wake until seven so he lay still for several seconds, wondering what had roused him from sleep. He hadn’t been dreaming, of that he was pretty sure. He stretched out his senses, hoping for a clue. He listened intently to the darkness of his room. Silence, nothing. Then… was that screaming? Raphael leapt from his bed and tore out of his room. He paused at the top of the stairs to listen. There it was again! It had to be Cass; Mikey was the only one of his family with a feminie scream and Raphael could see his brother still zonked out on the couch.

He raced down the stairs and burst into the guest room. 

-

_Cass tried to struggle against the Purple Dragons. Two of them had her hands pinned behind her, their hands on her shoulders. Her arms were bent awkwardly around the bulk of her backpack and her shoulders hurt every time the young men pulled at her arms. Several of them carried baseball bats or knives and they advanced on her. All of them were yelling._

_Trapped!_

_She whimpered and screamed for help, for them to leave her alone!_

_“Cass! Cass!” one of them jeered._

_How did they know her name?_

_“Cass!”_

-

Raphael didn’t bother with the lights, there was enough faint light from the main room spilling in through the open doorway for him to see. The girl was tangled up in the blankets of the bed. Sweat glistened on her face and one arm that was free from the blankets was flailing in the air. Tears rolled down her face and Raphael feared that she’d pull her stitches in her dream panic. “Cass, wake up!” He dove for her, pinning her to the bed, trying to stop her erratic movements. 

-

_They pulled her to the ground, one held her legs in place while another sat on her stomach. Cass screamed louder. “We got ourselves some fun tonight boys!”_

_She bit the hand over her mouth, earning swearing. “We don’t let naughty bitches get away without punishment!”_

_“Batter up!” the largest one jeered._

_One of them holding a baseball bat stepped forward, tapping the wood against his palm, a sick smile on his face._

_Trapped!_

_Cass closed her eyes and tried to scream._

-

She screamed harder and tried to thrash against Raphael’s weight. _‘Shit! She’s probably havin’ a nightmare about the Purple Dragons an’ I just made it worse!’_ Raphael slid off her and kneeled on the floor by her head. “Cass, Cass wake up! Y'er havin’ a nightmare! It's not real! I brought ya back to the lair, remember?” he yelled over her screaming.

-

_They kept using her name, telling her it wasn’t real; how did they know her name? Their noise filled the alley, crashed in her ears. They waved their baseball bats and knives, the metal reflecting the moonlight._

_The one advancing on her fell backward as a black mass collided into him and he rammed into the alley wall._

-

The girl still wasn’t coming out of her nightmare and now Raphael was afraid to touch her, not wanting to compound the situation, _again._ Something April had once said about screaming babies popped into his mind. He leaned closer to Cass’ head and started whispering what he hoped were soothing words. “Shhh, Cass, don’t ya remember? I saved ya from ‘em, brought ya to the lair. Don fixed ya up. Y'er fine, y'er in bed having a nightmare. Shhh Cass, ya’ll pull yer stitches. It's not real. Y'er safe...”

-

_They were taunting her now, telling her she was safe._

_The leader brandished a butcher knife, gleaming in the moonlight._

_Suddenly the weight on her stomach and the hands on her feet were gone, a sickening crunch sounded a few feet away. The hands holding her shoulders down released her and their feet ran away. Cass curled into a ball, hoping they’d leave her alone._

_The sounds of a fight echoed around her, the Purple Dragons yelled at the new opponent._

_The air fell silent._

_“I won’t hurt ya.” Strong arms picked her up, cradled her against a chest._

_Not chest; turtle shell._

_Green, thick arms._

_Red bandana._

_Deady tridents._

_Cass opened her eyes._

-

Raphael continued his ridiculous droning of hopefully soothing words, watched as Cass’ shaking slowly lessened to shivering, then stopped. She opened her eyes and he noticed that they were hazel. “It's ok, ya were having a nightmare and screaming,” he assured her as she sat up and nodded, though her eyes were still haunted. He handed her the bottle of water on the nightstand. “Breath for a few minutes, then I need to check yer stitches.”

“... Shit.”

He chuckled as she sipped the water and put it back on the dresser. He watched as she pulled her long light brown hair from it's tangled ponytail and shook it out. Cass rubbed her face, then flipped over the blankets. 

Raphael kept his eyes on her leg, not the height of the overly large t-shirt on her thighs. “Does it hurt?” he asked, bending over for a closer look. 

“Yes but not too much?”

“Good.” There were a few speckles of blood on the bandage but not anything more than Raphael thought normal. It was a good thing she was so tightly wrapped in the blankets. “I think it looks fine. Here, move off the bed and I’ll put fresh sheets on it,” he grunted. Cass’ eyes widened but she followed his instructions, bracing against the dresser as he changed the sheets. She finger-combed her hair as he worked. 

Mumbling beside him, she grumbled about her night. “Damn Purple Dragons. Damn work for keeping me late. Damn me. Why me?”

Not having an answer, Raphael didn’t reply.

“Try to sleep again,” he patted the bed.

“No shit Sherlock.”

He smirked at her sarcasm and didn’t offer to help. Raphael watched as she dug through the dresser for clean clothes, deliberately not paying full attention. Realizing she wasn’t asking for help, he turned on the lamp, gathered the sweaty sheets as well as her clothes from the day, and closed the door behind him. He waited a moment, ear against the door, in the event she actually did need help. Or toppled over. A moment later his sensitive ears heard the bed creak as she climbed into it and he saw the light turn off beneath the door. 

\--

After falling into a fitful light sleep several times and waking to half-formed nightmares, Cass finally got out of bed shortly after seven. She had heard someone out in the main floor rummaging around for several minutes and decided she might as well get up. She could totally nap later. Cass dug around for a pair of jeans and was too excited to find some in her size, shimmied them on, and rolled up the pant leg. She didn’t bother with another shirt but did find a sweatshirt. Noticing the pills and water bottle on the dresser, she was reminded to take them. 

Cass hobbled from the guest room to the kitchen table. Mikey was sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons and munching on a bowl of cereal. Donatello and Raphael were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Cass inhaled deeply the scent of eggs and bacon. 

“Hey dudette, I don’t think you should be walking on that leg…”

“Ain’t walking,” was Cass’ reply to the orange-banded turtle, “this is called ‘limping.’”

She watched Raphael hide a grin behind a mug.

“Mikey’s right Cass, you really shouldn’t put any weight on that leg,” Donatello echoed his brother.

She shrugged. “I’m not a baby. I can hobble from the bedroom to the kitchen. I’ll hang around on the couch with Mikey until you find those crutches.” She said it simply, not as a threat. Mikey made a noise that sounded like he was hiding laughter. Raphael tossed an annoyed look towards the living room and Donatello looked like he wanted to hide.

Donatello sighed and shook his head at Mikey and nodded at Cass. “I’ll go find them after I’m done eating. Do you need any kind of reminder for the pills?”

“Nope, already took them, but thanks. Sometime today I’ll put reminders in my phone.”

“Arlight; that’s good.”

“What do you want for breakfast?” Raphael grunted.

“Bacon and eggs are good.”

“Drink?”

Donatello offered the coffee pot and raised an eye… ridge when she wrinkled her nose. “I mean no offense to anyone who drinks coffee but I hate it. Don’t like the smell and have never gotten past that. Also, I had a bunch of old man librarians in my cafeteria last summer and they didn’t finish their coffee. Every. Single. Damn day. Coffee. In my pit. All day. For a week. Nope. If you’ve got juice though that’d be great.”

Speaking of smell, no one had said or acted like she did; a shower was definitely on the agenda today. Hopefully they’d let her know if she reaked. 

The bulky turtle put the plate and silverware down in front of her. “Grape, orange, or apple cider?”

Cass opened her mouth, then closed it. Chewing on her cheek, she mentally fought with herself. Apple cider was fucking _expensive_ but also hella delicious. The cafeteria basically never served it. She never bought it and only sometimes did her rather well-off roommate buy it and share. She’d had a terrible day and night yesterday but the turtles couldn’t be made of money. “Eh, surprise me.”

Raphael eyed her and chuckled.

“Good morning Master Splinter,” Donatello greeted someone behind Cass.

“Good morning my sons. And who is this?”

Turning, Cass came face to face with an anthropomorphic _rat._ Wearing a worn, brown robe. His ears twitched and a long tail swished behind him. Cass’ eyes went wide and she dropped her fork, which clattered on the table. “Um, sorry. I’m, ah, Cass Lyons. Raphael saved me last night.” She’d been expecting anthropomorphic. Not _rat_.

The rat gave an approving look to the red-banded turtle. “You are forgiven. It is not every day that a young human comes into contact with mutant turtles and rat.” He began puttering around the kitchen preparing tea and a plate of fruit.

Good, he hadn’t given any indication she smelled… 

Picking up her fork, her eyes darted between the turtles and the rat. Finally she asked, “Uh, could someone explain this already?”


	4. Backstory

Picking up her fork, her eyes darted between the turtles and the rat. Finally she asked, “Uh, could someone explain this already?” She waved the utensil around the table.

Donatello chuckled. “I wondered when you were going to ask that. I’ll let Master Splinter tell the beginning, that’s his expertise.” Cass blinked at him, then turned her eyes to the aged rat and returned to eating her breakfast.

The rat sat down at the table with his breakfast. “Many years ago I lived as a normal rat with my master, Hamoto Yoshi-sama in Japan. Yoshi-sama had a rival, Oroku Nagi. They began as friends but while Yoshi-sama had a gentle heart, Nagi had a dark one. They competed under the same sensei, the Ancient One, and for the same woman, Tang Shen. Tang Shen saved my life and I was a pet to her. Tan Shen was in love with Yoshi-sama and saw Nagi’s darkness from the beginning. When Nagi heard that Yoshi-sama had become engaged to Tan Shen, he went into a rage and tried to kill Yoshi-sama. Though it pained him, Yoshi-sama knew that he would have to kill Nagi to prevent any future issues. The act of murder meant death or exile. Tang Shen and Yoshi-sama journeyed far from their home to the port, deciding to travel to America. Along the way they saved and met an Utrom; a small, squid-like alien; that was masquerading in a robotic human body. Due to Yoshi-sama’s kindness, the Utrom offered to continue his training in exchange for Yoshi-sama becoming a guardian and protecting the Utroms in America. Yoshi-sama accepted. This information concerning the Utroms I did not know at this time, we learned this a few years ago.

“Yoshi-sama and Tang Shen had several years of prosperity in New York. Yoshi-sama had a dojo where he trained students in the way of ninjutsu. All the while that I lived with Yoshi-sama and Tang Shen, I watched as Yoshi-sama practiced his ninjutsu skills. I began mimicking his movements and I learned well.

Nagi had a brother, Oroku Saki. In revenge, Saki hunted down Tang Shen and Yoshi-sama. After my masters died I joined with the sewer rats for a time. Then one day in the sewers I found four baby turtles playing in some green, glowing ooze. I came into contact with the ooze as well. I cared for the baby turtles. Within a day of finding them, I noticed that they, as well as myself, were changing, becoming like humans. I named them after four Renaissance artists I read about in a book I found in the trash. I trained them in the way of ninjutsu that I had learned from Yoshi-sama, so that they could defend themselves against a harsh world.” Here Splinter motioned to the purple-wearing turtle, indicating that Donatello was to take over from here.

“The glowing green ooze turned out to be TCRI, a mutagen that had fallen off a truck. The four of us had been bought at a pet store and the little boy accidentally dropped us down into the sewer. Because the four of us had been in recent contact with the little boy’s human DNA and we passed those cells onto Master Splinter, we were all mutated into humanoid turtles and rat. We wandered the sewers for years, developing our personalities and ninja skills. One night when we were fifteen we saved a woman, April O’Neil, from Baxter Stockman’s Mousers, because she had been doing a news story on the Purple Dragons, who were in league with Baxtor Stockman. Through a few years of battling the Purple Dragons, we discovered that they were connected to the Foot Clan of ninjas.

“Oroku Saki wanted more than just revenge on Yoshi, he wanted world domination. He felt that conquering the United States first would be the best route. It turns out that several hundred years ago, a demon called the Shredder tried to take over the world. Five warriors were sent to defeat him; one changed sides, his name was also Oroku Saki. This Saki ‘had’ a son who turned out to be one of the robot-controlling Utroms Master Splinter mentioned, named Ch’rell. Ch’rell was an evil Utrom, wanting domination of the entire universe. Through the years he ‘died’ and pretended to be someone else until we come to the Oroku Saki of Master Splinter’s time. Saki only pretended to want revenge on Yoshi but in reality he wanted Yoshi dead because he was a guardian of the Utroms. Saki dons the Shredder persona to control the Food and fight. He trains the Food Clan for world domination and to defeat the guardians and the council of Utroms that tried to exile him. We’ve defeated Shredder a few times and he’s currently mia and his adopted daughter Karai leads the Food Clan. She’s more honorable than Saki.

That's our backstory. One interesting tidbit is that the Utroms actually made the TCRI mutagen. Quite ironic. Also, the sports enthusiast vigilante that you sometimes see on TV, the one with the hockey mask, that’s our friend, Casey Jones. He’s April’s boyfriend.”

“Also, also dudette,” Mikey chirped from the couch, “I’m the Turtle Titan, I’ve superheroed with the Silver Surfer, and I’m the Battle Nexus champion!”

Cass blinked at Mikey, then stared at Donatello, forkful of egg midair to her mouth. “All of that… is true?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds… like a Saturday morning cartoon for kids.” She placed the uneaten egg back on her plate and rubbed her forehead. “I think I need fresh air. Is that allowed?” Aliens? Demons? Dudes resurrecting themselves? Mutagen? That was a _shitload_ to swallow.

The two turtles looked to the rat, who apparently was in charge of this decision. “You wish to think, to allow the information that we have given you to stew in your mind.” The old rat grinned. “And to get out of the sewers and into the light.”

Cass shrugged; little from column A, little from column B. Really, she just wanted to think without a bunch of strangers around her.

“Answer me this young one: Will you reveal us to the world?”

Cass shook her head. “You guys - ” No, that would be rude. “- aren’t accepted by the rest of the world. I won’t expose you. There’s no reason to. Why put an end to the good you’ve done for this city?” _Besides, who would believe me? And some fucked up scientist would dissect them._

“You have my permission to go to the surface. But please, do not put undue stress on your leg.”

She chuckled wryly. “My life is undue stress. But I’ll try. No dammit, don’t pick me up, I’m not a baby!” Cass batted away Raphael’s hand. “I can walk. Limp! Across the living room.”

Until they got out into the wet, unfamiliar, slippery sewers.

His face right next to hers, Cass caught him hiding a smirk, but he did look to the aged rat. Splinter looked to Donatello, who shrugged. Apparently this was all the permission needed because Raphael backed away. She asked Donatello, “Am I good to take my phone with me for music and it’ll totally go on airplane mode, or is there some sort of security measure against it?”

He shook his head. “Airplane mode only does so much; I created tech that blocks any incoming or outgoing signals for this reason. Raphael has one. We appreciate you asking.” Splinter nodded along with his son. “I’ll have the crutches by the time you get back.”

Cass nodded. “Thanks.” The distance back to her guest room being short, Cass limped back there and gathered her phone and earbuds from her backpack. The red-banded turtle handed her her sweatshirt from yesterday, still warm from the dyer. Cass turned it over, inspecting it. “Hey, the bloodstains came out! Thank you!” His response was a shrug. Ignoring him, Cass changed sweatshirts and threw the borrowed one into her guest room. Raphael stayed close if she needed help across the lair, but not overbearingly so.

He did scoop her up before he opened the outer door, which was probably a good idea because hobbling through it onto a probable slippery surface was a bad idea.

Once the door closed, she asked, “Who made that place? It's connected to the sewers but it's too shiny to be part of the sewers. And it's _way_ too shiny to be human.”

“Did ya just say ‘shiny’ twice?” Raphael took off at an easy run, acting like she was weightless. Last night she’d been too caught up in adrenaline and her thoughts to properly notice.

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

Something like enjoyment flashed across his face. “Bird-like aliens, they liked open spaces. Yer turn.”

Mumbling, she said, “Aliens, of damn course.” Raising her voice, she answered, “I watched _Firefly_.”

“Thought so. Movie?”

“Pretty fantastic. Some things were off, but they did have to introduce new viewers to the world. It was weird to see Mal so _old_ compared to the series but welcome to real life. Wanted Wash fucking alive, but whatever.”

Cass was pretty sure she could hear him smile.

They spent the next fifteen or so minutes in silence, until he came to a ladder. Raphael slowed his gait but didn’t stop. Eyeballing it, Cass asked, “Can you carry me and get yourself up and the cover off at the same time?”

“Duh, ninja. Just wrap your hands around my neck.” She did as instructed and he easily scaled the ladder with one hand while the other held her legs.

That didn’t explain his strength, but then Cass realized his massive muscles _did_.

When he reached the top, he instructed her to change her hold to the ladder so he could move the manhole cover. It was awkward for Cass to be folded up against the ladder, yet she never felt in any danger. Raphael’s strong shell behind her gave her assurance that he wouldn’t let her fall. After making sure the coast was clear, he grabbed her again and with surprising ease lept out onto the street. He used his feet to replace the manhole cover.

Swiftly he made his way to a wooded area.

“So how does this work? The not being seen bit?”

“There’s a secluded part of a park that we use.” Raphael carried her beneath the hanging branches of a weeping willow, the tree being an obvious method of cover. He set her down against the base of the tree and she waited to turn her phone on while he fiddled with a gadget from his pouch. “Here.” He handed her something similar-looking to a phone, only it was crazy thick; Cass could barely get her hand around it. “Keep it in yer lap; ya can turn yer phone on now. Do ya have a cover story for the next week and if so when should ya contact people?”

Cass blinked at him; she’d forgotten about that. Turning on her phone, she asked, “What time is it?” The time would give her a starting point. She didn’t work on Sundays and it was her one day to sleep in. Though with her lie from last night about spending the night with a classmate would change that, she usually didn’t sleep well in strange places.

Raphael pulled out his phone and she noticed it was a little oval turtle shell. “8:17.”

Thinking, she chewed on her cheek. Her phone finally on, she checked the time she’d sent her cover story last night - 9:45. If she pretended she arrived at her classmate’s house at that time, give about three hours to do the project made it 1 am (which ironically was about the time her shitty day had ended). Sleeping in a strange place making her rise earlier than normal… hm… Well, her normal weekday morning started at 7:30, so she started there. An hour for breakfast and showering and then for an accident to happen. Maybe two hours to get to the hospital and checked out? That put her at 10:30. Her roommates wouldn’t start thinking about her until 9 or so and wouldn’t worry until after 12. “Somewhere around 11?”

He gave her a long look, probably questioning her hesitancy. “Ok. We should leave by 10; Don has something to alter yer phone’s stats but it might take him a while to fiddle with it.” Cass nodded in understanding. “I’m going to sit over there, holler if ya need me.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Nodding, he turned on his heel and walked a few yards away.

Raphael certainly didn’t talk much if he didn’t have to.

Shaking her head, Cass pushed away the half-formed thought that she hadn’t been rescued by Mikey, who seemed to be the friendliest of the bunch, or by Donatello, who at least seemed to know how to interact with other people.

Opening the clock app on her phone, she set a timer for 9:45, buffer room was always good. She plugged in her earbuds and opened the music app and turned on “shuffle all.” A significant portion of her song list was sappy love songs so she skipped most of them. The familiarity of her favorite artists did give her some small dose of relaxation and normalcy. Cass whispered along with the lyrics, once forgetting to keep her voice low. A large twig landing near her feet, too big and the wrong trajectory to have dropped, scared the shit out of her. Looking up, her eyes found Raphael, who put a finger to her lips. She mouthed her apology.

-

The whispered-sung words, “And if you strip me,” jerked Raphael’s attention, interrupting his look out. He glanced at Cass, who was quietly singing. _“Strip it all away If you strip me, what would you find? If you strip me, strip it all away I’ll be alright.”_ He relaxed a fraction as the initial line had shocked him; she’d said last night she was a virgin. Tossing a small branch at her, he startled Cass out of her reverie. He placed his finger to his lips and her eyes widened and she nodded.

It was too early in the morning for almost anyone to be in this secluded part of the park, so a bored Raphael’s curiosity was piqued. She had her healthy knee pulled up and her arms around it. After Cass was again immersed in her music, head in her arms, he scooched a little closer and caught scattered lyrics of different songs.

_“Take what you want, steal my pride  
_ _Build me up or cut me down to size  
_ _Shut me out but I’ll scream  
_ _I’m only one voice in a million”_

One song in particular seemed to really make her feel better because he caught part of the chorus more than once.

_“I am special I am beautiful I am wonderful, and powerful, unstoppable  
_ _Sometimes I’m miserable  
_ _Sometimes I’m pitiful  
_ _But that’s so typical of all the things I am”_

About the third time she played the song, her whispers became watery. Raphael watched the girl for a moment, closed off from the world; her body shaking gently. Poor girl had had a shitty day yesterday. Comfort was not his department but he would go over there if her crying got louder, her body shook harder, or she asked.

Cass didn’t, so Raphael didn’t. After a few minutes her body stilled. After about ten minutes her voice steadied.

He recognized _Dizzy Up the Girl_ , _Hate this Place, Slide_ , and _Iris_ by the Goo Goo Dolls because Mikey loved the band. Both versions of “Holding Out for a Hero” from the second Shrek movie were easily recognizable; Cass played both songs a few times each. When she started singing male versions of what he was sure were feminine songs, he realized they might be the _Anthem Lights_ covers; both Mikey and Don liked the band’s songs. Then for about half an hour she was silent. When she sang again, her voice was steady and almost fierce.

_“When you’re sweating from the fear, you look it in the eye  
_ _Turn the sound of defeat into your battle cry  
_ _Stakes are down, you’re outta luck  
_ _Look at you, smiling with a shiner, standing higher  
_ _Prizefighter!”_

The next song she sang the chorus just a touch louder than a quiet whisper.

_“Show ‘em who you are  
_ _Show ‘em that you’re strong  
_ _Show ‘em that you know where you belong  
_ _Open up their eyes, force ‘em all to see  
_ _Let ‘em know you are and you’ll always be_  
_Unbreakable, unbreakable  
_ _Unbreakable, unbreakable”_

Cass took a long, deep breath and straightened up from her crouched position. She thumbed something on her phone and closed her eyes. After a moment she jerked her earbuds out and smashed at something on the screen. Sighing, she turned the phone off, wrapped the earbuds around it, and tucked the bundle into her sweatshirt pocket.

Understanding she was finished, Raphael was standing when she looked at him. “Ready?”

“Might as well be, it's almost ten.”

She hands him Don’s equipment, which he tucks into one of his pouches. Raphael nodded, crouched, and easily picked her up.

They quickly exited the park, crossed the street, and entered the sewers; silent the entire way. Raphael could feel the tension of stress fighting with exhaustion in Cass’ body. After about ten minutes traveling in the sewer, she asked, “Is Mikey’s full name Michelangelo?”

“Mhm.”

“Who’s the blue-wearer?”

It was only years of practiced ease being indifferent that saved him; Raphael hadn’t expected her to ask that question. “Leonardo, he’s training in South America,” he answered shortly. _‘Damn you Leo.’_ Raphael forced himself not to think about his older brother. Much as he didn’t want to talk about Leo, she’d find out eventually. Better to give her the basic truth now than have to hear one of his brothers babble about it.

“Huh, Renaissance artists, wow. Add that to the pile of odd shit.” There was a pause. “Last night you said something about ‘tradition.’ - ”

“We rescue people, bring ‘em to the lair, ask ‘em to help us if they can. Some of ‘em hang.”

“How many have you saved?”

“Couple dozen or so.”

“Damn!”

Raphael partially shrugged.

He could feel her turn towards him in his arms. “No offense, but why are you taking care of me? You… don’t seem like the friendliest of the bunch.”

“Responsibility. I saved ya, I take care of ya.”

“You fight the Purple Dragons and save people all the time?”

“Two days a week when we go out on patrol together. We’re allowed one day a week to go out on our own.”

She turned toward him again and he could _hear_ her thinking. “You sneak out.”

He tried not to give himself away, so he only grunted.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry. Cabin fever would be way too easy to get down there. I mean, I’ve got it and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.” She paused before her next question. “Why were you trying to hide a smile this morning when we were talking about me limping?”

“Teh. Few years ago I twisted my ankle really bad. Don told me to stay off it for two weeks, when in reality I had to stay off it for a week for it to heal. But he knew if he told me a week I’d be back on it in about two days.” Raphael smiled at the memory.

“Huh. Did he make your phones too? They’re cute.”

“Yup.”

Cass asked no more questions and within minutes he could feel her body relaxing as she drifted to sleep. Figuring she hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, Raphael slowed down minutely to give her a few precious extra minutes of rest. The door to the lair was relatively quiet, but not that quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cobbled together bits of the turtles' backstory. If I've got something major wrong with that, I'm open to constructive criticism.


	5. Lie

Cass stirred awake in Raphael’s strong arms as the door to the lair ground open. She groaned as he set her down, stretching the kinks out of her body. Raphael handed her the crutches, which were leaning against the wall. Either they had been serendipitously the correct height or Donatello had done some sort of genius shit, because they were already on the perfect notch. Raphael led her to the lab, knocking, and gaining entry. They stopped at the corner with the multiple computer screens where Donatello was typing away and Raphael explained that Cass had to contact people to lie about her whereabouts. 

Her stomach turned over. 

She understood she needed to lie to protect the turtles, but it ate at her. There were too many variables she had to consider. How was she to convince her roommate, her best friend since they’d been four, that she was fine and would be home soon? That she didn’t need to come get her or hold her hand? They didn’t hang out with the other girl often enough for her to be an issue. But Cass’ best friend’s family had practically adopted her, and their mothers had done the same. The two moms talked. Her roommate would talk to her own mom. Of course Cass had to tell her mom about the accident, how could she not? If it ever came up in the future, there wouldn’t be any records of the incident because Donatello was the one who stitched her up. 

Scrubbing at her face, Cass sat in the offered rolling chair. 

“Are you alright Cass?” Donatello looked at her from his own chair, fiddling with whatever device would alter her phone. Raphael was in the corner, arms crossed and face blank.

Looking up at the tall turtle, she sighed. “I’m not a lying sort of person. Like I totally get why I have to lie, I’m going to do it. It's just a lot to figure out. How do I convince my roommate not to come get me from the hospital? She’s my best friend, she’s basically a sister to me. And my mom…? What do I say to her? It's not a big enough injury for her to come down, and she won’t worry more than she should when I tell her I’m fine. My mom and my roommate’s mom are good friends too, they’ll talk. I mean, it's not that hard to lie that I got hurt at a classmate’s house and went to the hospital. But what if it comes up in the future? What if some doctor has to look up records for whatever reason? It's a lot to make up, a lot to keep straight. And I’m worried when you have to come check up on it in a few days.”

Carefully he patted her shoulder. “Your check-up in a few days and the removal in a week has to be done by me because I’m the one who stitched you up, that particular record is hard to forge. But a record of this incident simply _happening_ isn’t so hard to falsify. It's basic enough that any questions any professional might have, they’ll just look it up in the system and find the answers: who - me, I’ve already got a fake account from similar instances; what drugs, the procedure, and the outcome. And if they need to contact someone, it’ll get directed to me and I’ll take care of it. I know that lying to family and friends hurts, but we appreciate you keeping our secret. Telling as much of the truth helps with that. Also, we’re ninja, so sneaking into an apartment isn’t hard; I promise we’ll be safe.”

“What if my mom calls the hospital in the future?”

He pushed up his glasses. “I’ve already got records at Lenox Hill Hospital for this reason. Typically the receptionist will look at the records and if necessary, which there’s a very low chance it will be, put an inquiry into the computer system, which will get forwarded to me. My equipment here,” he waved at the intricate computer system behind him, “will make everything look legitimate. Even if I’m not available, the computer will bounce back that the attending doctor is unavailable and will respond shortly.”

Cass wrapped her arms around herself. “That makes it sound so easy.”

Reaching over again slowly, he squeezed her shoulder. “April and I have had years to figure this out.”

“Damn.”

Donatello smiled. Something on his computer beeped. “Ok, you can turn your phone on now. Your phone will display as being at Lenox Hill Hospital. I’m Doctor Donavon A. Mato, and I’ve got other bogus names ready if you need them.” He handed her a piece of paper.

Biting her lower lip, Cass nodded. She turned on her phone, inhaled, and called her roommate.

When the line picked up, she rolled away for privacy.

“Hey, yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t called yet. I’m at the hospital - ” she pulled her phone away from her ear when her roommate yelled _‘What?’_. “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I tripped over my classmate’s cat this morning,” subconsciously Cass started to twirl a strand of hair around her finger, “and fell into the coffee table, which had sharp edges. I had to get stitches.”

_“Oh my gosh Cassie, are you sure you’re ok?”_

“Yes, I’m fine. I just have to stay off it for a week. They’re almost done with me here.”

_“Which hospital are you at? I’ll come down and take the subway back with you.”_

“You don’t need to come down and hold my hand, I’m not a baby, I’m fine. It’ll be a while yet before all the paperwork is filled out and shit and they can release me. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”

_“Are you sure you don’t want me to come down?”_

“Yes I’m sure, I’m fine. And I don’t need you to baby me when I’m home, either. Don’t you have a lunch date with that girl from the club last week? I don’t want to interrupt that.”

_“If you’re sure…”_

“Sure as shit Sherlock. I’ll see you in a few hours or so.”

_“Ok, bye.”_

“Bye.”

Cass ended the call and sighed. Tripping over a cat and falling into a coffee table wasn’t that hard to remember. Her roommate would try to baby her for the week she couldn’t walk, but Cass should be able to survive the week. She already had a few scars from playing outside growing up and the several years she’d played sports, so another one wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention. There wasn’t a reason for her roommate to bring it up in the future.

Rolling back over to the tech turtle, she waited until he glanced at her and nodded before asking, “Is my phone good to text my roommate before I leave or do I have to come back here?”

“The equipment’s range covers most of the lair, so your guest room is covered.”

“Ok. What do I tell my mom if she asks about the insurance?”

“You’re in school, right?” She nodded. “The state of New York offers special insurance for all college students if the injury effects their class attendance and/or job that supports their college payment. That’s easier to hack into than your family’s personal insurance. You can tell your mom that the New York college insurance bill that passed in 2009 covers it.”

“Ok, thanks.” 

Donatello nodded and went back to his computer.

Taking a deep breath and rolling away again, Cass found her mom’s number in her recent contacts. There was no reason for her mom to disbelieve her and the injury wasn’t severe enough for her parents to come see her. Lying to her roommate had come easier than she’d thought, so it shouldn’t be too terrible to say the same thing to her mom. She got scraps, bruises, and minor cuts in the dishpit and playing intramural sports all the time, one more wouldn’t set anything off on her mom’s radar.

_“Hi honey! How are you?”_

“Hey Mom, I’m fine,” Cass slid her fingers into her hair, against her head. “I, uh, I had a little accident this morning. I’m in the hospital.”

_“Oh no Cassie girl! What happened? Do we need to come down there?”_

“No Mom, everything’s fine. I went to a classmate’s house to work on a project and I tripped over their cat and fell into the sharp edges of a coffee table. I needed to get stitches. They’ll be letting me out soon and I’ll be going home. I have to stay off it for a week but I’m totally fine.”

_“Alright, I’m glad you’re ok Cass. Did the insurance get billed or did the college insurance take care of it?”_

“The New York college insurance covered it.” From the corner of her eye she saw Donatello give her a thumbs-up and she waved at him. 

_“Sounds good. We’ll see you next month then.”_

“Yep, thanks Mom. Love you, tell Dad and the sibs I said ‘hi.’”

_“I will honey, love you too.”_

Clicking the screen off, she set her phone in her lap and leaned back in the chair, threading the fingers of both hands into her hair and scraping her scalp. That had gone a lot easier than she thought it would have. Cass took a moment to just sit there and not think about anything. 

After a few moments she rolled over to Donatello and gave him his sheet of paper back. “Are there any special instructions for like, showering and soap and lotion and keeping it clean and shit?”

“Yes. It needs to stay clean and bandaged to protect from infection. Don’t put soap or lotion directly on it, just hot water and very light scrubbing until the stitches come out in a week. You saw me wrap it with the ace bandage last night, right?” Cass nodded. “I know you were tired, but do you think you can wrap it for the week?”

“Oh yeah, this sports girl is no stranger to ace bandage wraps.”

Donatello chuckled. “I’m sorry you got injured playing sports but the experience with ace bandages is very helpful in this case. Is there a good day for us to come by and do the check-up?”

Cass screwed up her eyes in thought. Her roommate usually went out on a date Wednesday and the other roommate worked that night. “Wednesday between four and eight?”

“We’ll make that work. Does next Sunday work for you to come back to get them removed?”

“Yes.”

“Aright. I’ll contact April and Casey and get them to come down with the van to take you home, they should be here in about three hours; we’ll let you know if it's any different than that. We’ll figure something out to get you back here, probably their van again. Sound good?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“You're very welcome. Your blood analysis finished and I checked it against your records, nothing different came up.”

Cass breathed a sigh of relief.

“Any other questions?”

“Not that I can think of right now.”

“Alright. If you want to give me your phone I’ll plug my number into it and you can contact me if you do think of some. There’s tech magic that I’ll work that will make it so that no one can get information from it if they try.”

“Ok.” For the first time in her life, Cass handed over her phone to an almost-stranger to plug _his_ number into. It didn’t bother her, just registered in her brain as a milestone of odd sorts. “I, ah, think I’m in desperate need of a shower.” Donatello chuckled softly enough Cass wasn’t even sure she heard it, which was nice of him. “How do I keep it dry?”

Rummaging from the medical corner caught her attention and Raphael said, “Catch!”

Again, her two decades of softball was the only thing that prepared her for the bulky turtle throwing things at her. Cass blinked at the ziplock bag with an ice blue ace bandage and small jar in it.

“Thanks Raph,” Donatello spoke. Then he explained, “Waterproof ace bandage; the jar has special jelly in it that will seal between the bandage and your skin. There’s instructions in the bag.”

“Made by his truly,” Raphael added. 

“Wow.”

Donatello smiled and gave her her phone back, pointing at the new additions to the contacts. “I put in April’s number, too. Raph, the bag of ace bandages if you’d be so kind.”

Another ziplock bag came flying at her. 

“Clean ones, so you can change it every day.” He pushed his glasses up his nose again, then pulled a piece of paper from a nearby printer. “Stretches, to keep your leg conditioned.”

“Thank you Donatello.” Cass stood and grabbed the crutches. 

“You’re very welcome.” The tall turtle turned back to his computer. 

Cass crutched out of the lab and asked Raphael which room was hers because lack of sleep was seriously getting to her. He pointed to the correct door. “D’ya need any help?”

“Nope. I’m going to take a nap afterwards so I release you from babysitting duty.”

He made an appreciative ‘teh’ sound and walked toward a staircase. 

After gathering clean clothes, Cass went to the bathroom. It was small enough that she didn’t need the crutches and it might even have been too small for them, so she left them outside against the wall. Deciding a short soak was in order, Cass stripped and ran water in the tub, turned her music on, and wrapped the waterproof bandage around her leg and applied the jelly according to the instructions. Carefully she lowered herself into the tub and awkwardly hung her injured leg over the side; better safe than sorry. Even if the position wasn’t comfortable, the hot water did wonders for her muscles and body. 

“I don’t think I’ve laid in the tub since… forever.”

She’d never been a soak sort of person; playing outside and sports meant she was sticky with sweat and dirt and showers were just faster. 

About twenty minutes went by before the water started to feel cold and Cass drained the tub. Hopping out, she ran the water from the shower head until it was warm, then got back in. It was tricky, keeping her weight on one leg and washing at the same time, but she managed. Drying off, she put on clean clothes and crutched back to her guest room. 

Checking the clock, Cass calculated she had about two hours before April and Casey arrived to take her home. That was a decent amount of time to nap and she would certainly nap again once she got home. Not knowing if Donatello’s tech magic covered her laptop and knowing it was a pain on her phone for her to maneuver the website the college kitchen used for group chat and scheduling, Cass figured she would send out an email from her laptop about needing her shifts covered after she got home. 

Yawning, Cass crawled into bed and slept fitfully.

\--

A loud rap on the door woke her from half-formed nightmares of Purple Dragons and mutated turtles with strong arms. 

“Cass, April and Casey are here with their van to take ya home.”

Taking in the room and the becoming-familiar voice through the door, Cass remembered the events that brought her to this moment. “Yeah, I’m awake, thanks.”

“Ya decent?”

“... Yes…?”

‘Why?’ was on her lips when the door opened, spilling light into the room. Cass held up her hand against it and Raphael walked in, deposited the bedclothes from last night and her clothes from yesterday onto the bed, snatched up her backpack, and walked back towards the door. “Don’t worry about the bedclothes and whatever ya wore, we’ll take care of it. Ya can keep the pants.” He told her where the elevator was and then closed the door again before she could say anything. 

“... Huh. Well ok then.”

Clicking on the lamp, Cass dug out her own clothes and changed. She did take the initiative and strip the bed, though with her injured leg she decided to forgo putting the new sheets on. Bundling up the dirty sheets and whatever clothes she’d worn, she left the pile near the door. Cass looked around for her backpack before remembering that Raphael had just grabbed it. Her sweep of the room showed that the pill bottle was still on the dresser so she tucked it into her pocket. 

“Alrighty, guess it's time to go back to real life.”

Squaring her shoulders, Cass crutched across the lair and rode the elevator to the garage. 

The room was dark other than where the door was open to allow April and Casey entrance. Too tired to care, Cass ignored the darkened room and crutched over. April O’Neil, easily recognizable from her reporting on Channel 6 and her bright red hair, was bickering with a tall, muscular, dark-haired man that Cass assumed was Casey Jones. They were standing next to a white van without windows or markings _._ The two humans ceased their squabbling when Cass neared them. April stuck her hand out and introduced herself and Casey; Cass shook their hands. April started up the vehicle while Casey directed her to the sliding door and middle seat. Cass was surprised to see Raphael already buckled in, but then she realized she was probably still his responsibility until she was home. 

Cass gave them her address, which Casey plugged into his phone, and then rode in silence as the other three talked; she watched New York pass by through the front window. April did try to engage her in conversation, to which Cass politely responded to and that she was tired.

The van pulled up to Cass’ apartment and she had never been so happy to see the old building. 

As she shouldered her backpack, Raphael instructed, “When ya get up there, if ya can, flick the living room light a few times so we know which one is yer apartment when we come for the check-up.”

“Ok.” Looking at April and Casey, Cass said, “Thank you for the ride.”

Casey waved and April spoke for the both of them, “You’re very welcome! Don put our numbers into your contacts, right?” Cass nodded. “I’ll text you about Sunday then. I hope you heal quickly!” Cass smiled. 

Turning to Raphael, she thanked him too, only to receive another ‘teh.’

Mentally shrugging him off, Cass crutched into the building and took the elevator for the first time since moving in. 

When she finally entered the apartment, both of her roommates were in the living room. Cass waved them off, telling them she’d inform them later about everything because she very much wanted to nap right now. She did accept a hug from her best friend, who said to holler if Cass needed anything. When she entered the bedroom, Cass flicked the light on and off a few times, hoping that would work for Raphael. 

Pulling out her phone, Cass texted April and Donatello that the living room was occupied and she’d flicked the bedroom lights instead, she also gave them her apartment number because he could probably do hacking magic and get floor plans or some shit. April responded a few seconds later that it was fine.

Crawling into bed, Cass opened her laptop and sent out the necessary emails for work and school, then took another much-needed nap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this chapter without realizing that reality exists… because how the fuck are April and Casey getting the van directly into the lair, which is supposed to be underground??? Cass just walks out of her guest room into the lair and there’s Capril and the van. Just… wtf T’hiah?? *Goes back and adds an elevator*
> 
> I totally made up the state college insurance thing; I ran into the problem of there needing to be records of Cass' stitches and made up my own solution.


	6. Check-Up

Cass sighed and leaned against the main door to the apartment, then hobbled to the couch. She’d finally gotten rid of her roommate to go on her date. While she loved the other girl like a sister, her best friend could be super overprotective and annoying. Cass wasn’t a baby and didn’t need her friend to smother her. 

Besides, she didn’t know when Donatello was going to show up at her door - or rather, window.

Though four-thirty in the bright afternoon sun seemed like a very unlikely time for his arrival.

Groaning, Cass plopped her body back onto the couch that she’d become all too familiar with over the last four days. 

It was the couch or the bed, and the couch was much closer to the TV, kitchen, and bathroom. 

Not for the first time did she curse the Purple Dragons. Cass was a doer, a mover, and she hated bedrest. Sure, a lazy day or two here and there to relax, recuperate, and regenerate was fine and necessary. But she couldn’t go to school, couldn’t go to work, couldn’t go out for a whole gadamned week and it fucking sucked. 

Her homework was mostly caught up, she’d had a late lunch, and she was sick of watching TV, so with nothing better to do Cass pulled up her blanket and threw her arm over her face and drifted off to sleep. 

-

A thick finger tapped against her shoulder and sitting up sharply, Cass swore and her legs tangled in her blanket. 

She opened her mouth to scream because _there was an intruder in her apartment!_ when a three-fingered hand covered it. It was connected to a green arm, which led to a purple, bespeckled face. 

Cass relaxed, mostly, when she realized it was Donatello. 

“Good?”

At her nod, he released her and she inhaled deeply. “Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Her head whipped around when someone else answered, “No, but you didn’t answer Don’s text to unlock your window so we had to resort to _drastic measures_.”

There was Michelangelo, flopped out on the armchair, tapping his fingers together mischievously. 

Her eyes widened when she also saw Raphael pulling out a bean bag.

They were all three here for her check-up?

“It's safer to go out together to a new place, and cabin fever,” Donatello explained as he sat next to her. 

“O-kay.”

“Plus, we’re hoping you’d let us hang out!”

Cass’ eyes snapped to Michelangelo. “H-hang out?”

“Y’know, movies, pizza, drinks, snacks, popcorn! Netflix and chiiiillll sista!” He slid his hands out into the air and away from his body as he drew out the word.

Raphael reached up and bopped the other turtle in the head. “Pretty sure she knows what ‘hang out’ means chucklehead.” 

“You guys eat - pizza?”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone does!”

His enthusiasm was catching and Cass felt herself fully relax. “Yeah, sure, I suppose so.” She kinda had the half-thought that she’d been manipulated into letting them stay… 

The orange-banded turtle whooped and hopped out of the chair. Dashing into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and rummaged through it. “Woo, someone likes Orange Crush!”

“Mikey, we’ve talked about you getting into other people’s food,” Donatello admonished. 

Raphael slipped into Michelangelo’s empty seat with a sly smile. 

Cass just stared at them. She had a feeling Michelangelo didn’t _just_ go snooping in kitchens, but that it was an icebreaker. “Uh, the Orange Crush is my roommate’s, so like no big deal if it appears that I drank one - ”

“Yeah!”

“ - but that leaves out the rest of you? We don’t have much else in there.”

Donatello waved it off. “We can get drinks with our pizza. If we get thirsty before then Raph and I can just have water.”

“Hey Raphie, that’s my seat!” Michelangelo whined.

“Didn’t call it,” Cass said at the same time as the big turtle. 

They looked at her.

“I have younger siblings.”

They laughed and Michelangelo sat in the vacated bean bag. Raphael shoved his hand into Michelangelo’s face and pushed, saying, “Don’t call me Raphie.”

The whole thing felt natural, familial, and reminded Cass of her younger brothers’ antics. 

Cass realized Donatello was waiting on her to check her stitches. “Oh shit, right.” She untangled her legs from the blanket and hiked up her pant leg, stretching the limb onto the coffee table and unwinding the ace bandage. 

“Hey chica, you got more blankets?”

“Hall closet,” she pointed.

“Shell-sweet, any of ‘em electric?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re coldblooded,” Donatello explained. 

“Oh, right.”

He gently probed at her stitches. “Any complications?”

Cass inhaled as his thick fingers probed her muscles. “Nope.” She pushed away the feeling that a big, strong man was feeling up her shin. 

“Are you taking your pills?”

“Twice a day,” she pointed to her phone, “alarm.”

“Changing the bandage?”

“Every day.”

The tech turtle pulled down the goggles on his head and inspected her leg. “No signs of infection, that’s good.” He pushed them back onto his head and looked her straight in the eyes. “Are you staying off your feet?”

Cass spread her hands to indicate the couch, then pointed to the crutches within arm’s reach. “Yes.”

An eye ridge rose.

“Mostly. I can hobble to the bathroom and back.” A gruff snicker came from the chair as Donatello sighed. “Otherwise I’m basically stuck on the couch all day. I didn’t even go to intramural softball, even just to cheer on my team.” She’d been too tired, but that didn’t have anything to do with the check-up. “I called into work and classes for the week. Well, I’m doing the checker stand tomorrow and Friday because that person could switch into the pit. But that’s it. It’s all sitting. So very boring.”

“Good enough, I suppose.” He released her leg. Michelangelo returned with an armload of blankets and passed them out to his brothers. “Are you doing the stretches I gave you?”

Bent over to rewrap her leg, Cass answered, “Oh yeah.” There was no way in hell she wasn’t doing them, especially since doing them meant her leg would heal faster. 

“Good. You should be fine to start walking again after I take the stitches out on Sunday, but go easy and don’t push it, alright?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Cass was already planning which position she would work in when she went back to work next week, though she would still hold off playing softball. She could probably help the coach though.

“You got a favorite pizza place?” Michelangelo chirped.

“Cheap,” was Cass’ answer as her shoulders tightened and she tried to figure out how she was going to pay for pizza for three _guys_. 

“Oh, we pay for ourselves, promise; don’t worry,” Donatello smiled at her. 

Straightening, she answered, “Pizza is pizza, food is food. I don’t like thin crust and prefer my sauce under the cheese.”

“Sauce over the cheese is soooo weird.” Cass nodded and the smallest turtle pulled out his phone and Cass guessed he was thumbing through pizza places. “Cheese bread or breadsticks?”

Shrugging, Cass said, “Either.” She prefered cheese bread but that came with a higher price tag and she wasn’t going to be the one to put in the vote. 

“What do you want on your pizza?”

“Just cheese is fine.”

“Drink?”

“I’ve got stuff in the fridge.”

“Ok, your loss chica.”

Blinking at Michelangelo, Cass shrugged him off. Her drinks in the fridge were just fine (and free from work), thank you very much. Reaching over, she grabbed her phone and started a text message to herself, typing out her address. Catching Michelangelo’s attention, she tossed him the phone. He gave her a big grin and thumbs-up. After reading off the address, a confused look crossed his face. Covering the speaker, he asked, “Hey Cass? The pizza place wants to know if they should send over that ‘hunky deliverer’?”

“Oh hot damn…” Of course he’d end up choosing _that_ pizzeria. Cass covered her face with both hands. “My roommate likes to flirt with one of them in particular and try to hook me up. Tell them no, whomever is just fine.”

The comedic turtle let out a laugh, then went back to the call.

Cass shuddered a little when she heard the total, but reminded herself it was three _guys_ and she wasn’t paying for it. Or, not all of it, because she was still going to give them some money. Cass hauled her backpack onto the couch and dug out her emergency cash, because she rarely went out and when she did she used her credit card. She had a couple of twenties and a five. Figuring if they needed more they’d say something. Cass quietly passed the five over to Donatello. 

The purple-banded turtle must have understood her silence, because he continued it, simply nodding his appreciation and tucking the bill into one of the many pouches on his belt. 

“Booya, thirty minutes until chees-ay time! It's already paid for, tip and all. Whatcha got for movies girlfriend?”

Flinching slightly at the nickname, Cass pointed to the shelves around the TV and said, “Whatever’s on there. We have Netflix. Or your Disney+ or ‘just about everything’ I suppose.”

“Oh, my gosh, who has a freakin’ VHS copy of _Space Balls_?” 

Cass covered her face at Michelangelo’s excitement, the movie wasn’t her cup of humor. “My roommate.”

“Does it work? You gals have a working player?”

Blinking, Cass remembered where it was. “Yes, and bottom right corner cabinet. I hope one of you knows how to plug it all in because I sure as hell don’t.” Her knowledge of electronics was turning them on and off, not throwing them, swearing at them, and asking someone else for help. Her roommate knew enough to switch around the cords for the TV and various gaming consoles and media players, but that was it. 

Almost reverently, he giddily pulled out the clunky, boxy electrical device. “I think I can handle it.”

Sighing, Donatello rose from the couch and went to help the other turtle. “I work the cables when he changes gaming consoles, because he always messes them up.”

Covering her mouth, Cass hid a chuckle. 

"Mikey, why ya wanna watch that low quality VHS shit dude? We got it in our library."

She debated on throwing a pillow at Raphael in defense of her best friend's enjoyment of the movie but decided against it in the vein of he was dissing the quality of the VHS medium, not the content of the movie. And he was a ninja.

“This is the original medium dude! How is that not cool?”

“Y'er an idiot, ya know that Mike?”

“Says you!”

“Yeah, says me.”

Cass could almost hear Donatello roll his eyes even though his head was turned away from her. His head tipped back a little and his whole body had an aloof, detached feel to it. _“Oh, these numbskulls? No, I don’t know them, I’m not related to these idiots at all.”_ The whole thing gave Cass a twinge of homesickness. She still giggled at the situation.

“Ya think we’re funny?” His growl _sounded_ only partially defensive.

“I think you all are _hilarious_.” Cass shot back. 

Raphael’s mouth opened but Michelangelo spoke first. “I live to humor! I excel at it! ‘Tis my lot in life!” He stood from ‘helping’ Donatello with the cords and pointed up at the ceiling, VCR remote in his other hand, then bowed. 

Mild tension broken, Cass giggled. 

“Aha!” Donatello exclaimed, plugging in the last cord. 

“Wow, now I know who to call when my roommate isn’t home.”

The tall turtle gave a gentleman’s bow and settled back on the couch. 

“Which remote runs the TV?”

“This one over here by me because I’m stuck on the couch,” Cass shot a fake snarky look at Donatello as she tossed the remote to the comedic turtle, who started the movie. 

“Oh, if only it wasn’t for your own good.”

She didn’t have a retort for that seeing as how he was right. 

“Though seeing as how our gracious hostess is maddenling tethered to the couch, do you have paper plates and cups for the pizza? Will the trash be noticed or do we need to take it out with us?”

“... Wow, you guys think of everything.”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Paperware is in the… cupboard above the microwave.” They used it so rarely and Cass was the tallest and still had to drag over a chair. Of course, Donatello was at least more than a good foot taller than she was and had long arms. “The trash is almost full anyway and I - ” Cass smirked, “I can crutch it down the hall to the shute.” 

Donatello face-palmed as he pulled the paperware from the cupboard. 

Michelangelo leaned up to Raphael and fake-whispered, “Wow, she can really snark.”

Cass snickered. The bulky turtle was about to speak when the doorbell rang. Her eyes darted between the turtles, then she called out, “Coming!” Belying their size, the turtles hustled into what Cass could only assume were pre-selected hiding spaces. Donatello loped into the bathroom, Michelangelo dove under the couch, and Raphael hunched his bulk behind the armchair. 

Other than the can of Orange Crush on the floor by the bean bag, which was mostly hidden by the chair anyway, it looked like Cass was the only person in the apartment. 

Blinking and refocusing, Cass stood and crutched to the door. 

A rather handsome young black man smiled at her. _‘Aw shit, they did send the hot one.’_ “Hey Cass. Three pies, two 2-liters, two cheese sticks, and one dessert pie?”

“Y-yeah, that’s mine, thanks.”

Aw fuck, crutches.

“I can set it on the coffee table for you?”

“Yeah, thanks Jarell.”

“What happened to you?”

“I fell and cut myself on a sharp coffee table.”

“Damn girl!”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You havin’ a party or somethin’?”

Well, it did look like it was just her.

“Uh, yeah, we’re having friends over in a bit.”

“Sweet girl, have fun! I hope you get better soon!”

“Thanks. See you later.”

“Later!”

Once the door was closed, the turtles came out from hiding.

“Oooh, he’s a hottie!”

Raphael rolled his eyes.

Cass stopped on her way back to the couch because she hadn’t been expecting that. She shook her head and redirected to the fridge for a drink. She hadn’t thought it through though because it was a styrofoam cup and lid from work. She swore under her breath as Donatello went by with the paperware.

“Need help?”

“ _Yeah…_ I hate being an invalid. Trade you for something in a bag.” She pointed at the cup she wanted, then twisted the crutches under her arms. 

“Ah, for sure.” He gave her the paper plates and cups and pulled her drink out of the fridge. 

She was sure he could have juggled all of it but she didn’t want to be needy or unhelpful. 

When she returned to the living room, Michelangelo hadn’t waited for the plates and was stuffing four slices into his mouth. This time when Cass stopped she stared. “Like pizza much?”

“It would be the only thing he ate if we let him.”

“Hey, I like other food too!”

Deciding to ignore their bickering, Cass put a few pieces of pizza and cheese bread on her plate, plopped down on the couch, and pretended to watch the movie.

Which Michelangelo rewound because they’d missed some when Jarell had dropped off the pizza, to Raphael’s annoyance. They bantered about the movie the whole time, while Donatello rattled off inconsistencies with reality. Cass mostly kept quiet, watching them interact. It was entertaining to say the least. She could _totally_ tell they were brothers. Both Raphael and Donatello treated Michelangelo like the baby brother while she got the feeling Donatello filled the role of middle brother, the one that no one _actually_ teases but dishes it out all the same, and Raphael was the big, strong, protetor brother who was the only one allowed to rag on his younger siblings. 

When the movie finished, Raphael put away the paperware, Donatello put the TV cables and VHS player back, and Michelangelo grabbed the trash can and cleaned up. 

Cass was impressed the orange-banded turtle pulled out and tied off the full bag, leaving it by the door for her. He even asked where the new bags were. 

They’d been really great guests, she’d had fun. 

“Thanks for letting us chill dudette!”

“Yeah, it was fun.”

“We have movie night every week, you should come.” Donatello elbowed him. “When you’re not on crutches.”

She laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it when I come down to get my stitches out.”

“For sure! See you then!”

They exited out the window and up the fire escape, Donatello last. “Stay off your feet.”

“Only as the doctor orders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Trivia:
> 
> Originally I was going to have Cass call the pizza place and have her take shorthand notes on what the guys wanted and Rapahel was gonna be all burly “What’s this code shit?” and Cass could show off her waitress order taking skills… But I felt like I’d been neglecting Mikey, not intentionally, so this chapter kinda became more about him. And like, it's just easier if Mikey calls because he knows what his bros want. So… yeah… (Plus like, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that Cass sometimes doubles as a waitress when her school’s food service hosts big parties… ahahaha whoops.)
> 
> Eta 6/28/2020: I've been rereading lilwriter's _Rooftops_ after a few years, which has always been an inspiration for RD. And I just realized we both used _Space Balls_ as the movie the group watches during their first hang-out. I might have done this subconsciously. I do promise I didn't intend to actually rip-off _Rooftops_.


	7. Removal

Saturday afternoon April texted her that they would be picking her up shortly after noon the next day. Cass progressively hadn’t slept well the whole week and Sunday morning she was glad of the late pick up because it meant she could sleep in again. After she had left the lair, the rest of Sunday and most of Monday she’d napped a lot, the exhaustion of Saturday’s events meaning she got plenty of sleep. But the rest of the week the nightmares plagued her. They were always the same: her mind reliving the Purple Dragons attacking her. Usually her nightmares ended when Raphael saved her, but sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes the knife touched her more than once… 

Luckily her nightmares were more flashes, shadows of the actual events, rather than the play-by-play the first one in the lair had been. Cass didn’t scream or thrash, which she appreciated that her subconscious was nice enough to her and her roommates. But she wasn’t getting enough sleep. If she was going back to school tomorrow and work in a few days, she desperately needed her rest. Being a college student she was alright with a late night here and there, but her body needed at least seven hours of real sleep a night to function properly. Sure, sometimes she went to bed later than she should, but she wasn’t her girlfriend, who could easily survive on four hours of sleep, then take the weekend to nap all day long. 

Cass hoped the bit of make-up she mooched from her girlfriend and dabbed on before April and Casey picked her up would hide the dark spots under her eyes. 

_“We’re training with them afterwards, are you in a hurry to get back home?”_

There was always her homework, phone games, the internet (she assumed Donatello would do his magic), and the massive TVs in the turtles’ lair; Cass supposed no, she wasn’t.

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Raphael was in the van again; he didn’t like to be cooped up any more than she did. And this pick-up probably still fell under the rule that she was his responsibility. Any excuse to get out of the lair. 

Again April and Casey engaged her a little and feeling guilty over not engaging last time, Cass tried to contribute to the discussion. They didn’t talk about much, just the weather, what the turtles and Raphael and Casey were up to, and how things were going with April’s jobs. She discovered that April had an antique store that she’d inherited from her grandfather and in fact her van was primarily used for the business. A special magnetic plate was used to hide the logo so that the Foot didn’t spot the vehicle. 

When they arrived at the lair, April and Casey joined Michelangelo on the couch to watch TV while Raphael led Cass into Donatello’s lab. The bulky turtle leaned against the wall nearby, twirling a trident. Cass hopped up on the bed and pulled up her pant leg. After inspecting the flesh, the tall turtle pronounced her fully healed. She sighed with relief. “It won’t take very long to remove them and anesthesia isn’t necessary. It’ll feel weird but the shortness means that a movie isn't a very good distraction. If you’ve got music or games on your phone, I recommend that.”

Groaning, she thanked him. Cass pulled out her phone, guessing that Donatello already had his signal blocking tech ready since he had suggested it. Wanting something that required little brain power, she opened Cut the Rope and then laughed at her choice. She felt Donatello get into her personal space and after washing the area, began snipping the stitches. The sensation of the cold, metal scissors so close to her flesh and the thread being pulled from it was very strange. The noise of the scissors both irritated and scared her so Cass put in her earbuds. 

She tried not to remember another time that something cold and metal had come close to that particular spot on her body. 

Cass opened her eyes wide to take in the bright, happy colors on her phone screen, trying to block out the memories from last week. 

“Are ya alright?”

Dropping her phone into her lap, Cass’ head whipped to the other turtle. She’d forgotten Raphael was in the room and he’d taken several steps toward her. Apparently the bulky turtle had noticed her unease but the bespeckled one hadn’t; Donatello was laying the scissors and tweezers on the bed and rising from his task, his eyes on her. 

“She started breathin’ hard.” He motioned towards her with a trident. 

Donatello rolled his chair so that he was next to her and put his hands in his lap. “Are you ok?”

Pulling out her earbuds, Cass breathed several times. She hadn’t realized she’d been panting. “I’m ok.”

“Are you sure?”

Figuring he was almost done, there weren’t that many stitches to begin with, she’d just force herself to ignore the flashes. Cass breathed in deep. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” He rolled back to her leg. “There are three stitches left,” he informed her as he picked up his tools.

Cass put one earbud back in, the happy carnival-like music a stark contrast to the events going on. Instead of going back to her game, Cass watched Donatello finish snipping the stitches. It was a green, three-fingered hand with scissors and tweezers; not a white, five-fingered hand with a knife. ‘ _Three stitches, three stitches,’_ she mentally repeated. **Snip, pull**. Donatello’s hands were precise in his task. _Two stitches._ **Snip, pull**. She was in his lab, not in the alley. _One stitch, one stitch, one, one, one, one._

**Snip.**

Finally Donatello’s tweezers **pulled** out the last stitch and Cass let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

Donatello stood to dispose of the stitching and put his tools away. Cass was about to ask if she could roll her pant leg down already when the tall turtle came back with a lidless jar of some sort of cream. He set it down on the cot next to her and she understood she needed to apply it to her leg. However, before she could move, Donatello had his hands on her leg again. All over her shin, fingers prodding her muscles. Cass tensed until he was done, when he pointed to the jar of cream. “It’ll help with the scarring, healing process, and to keep it clean. You don’t need much, just a little slather twice a day.”

As she applied some of it, Cass said, “Speaking of twice a day, there’s still some pills left that you gave me to ward off infection. Do you want them back?”

“Oh yes please. Medicine is a precious commodity for obvious reasons. Did you bring it with you?”

She had, after she’d applied the cream Cass wiped her hands on her pants and dug the bottle out of her backpack. Donatello screwed the cap on the cream jar and they traded. “I’ll get your ace bandages back to you too, I just have to wash them. Do you guys need the pants back from - ” her breath caught in her throat “ - from last week?”

Shaking his head, Donatello answered, “It doesn’t matter.” His eyes were magnified by his glasses and Cass could see his concern for her in them. He was probably hovering on asking her if she was alright. 

His large eyes searched her face; it was probably years of dealing with his stubborn brother that he didn’t ask.

Donatello pushed his glasses up, breaking the tenseness. 

Cass cleared her throat. “Ok.” She rolled her pant leg down, then swiveled to get off the bed.

The tech turtle half-offered his hand to help. Cass equal parts didn’t see it in time and didn’t want to be touched anymore. Placing both feet firmly on the ground, she let out a sigh of relief. It felt good to be back on both feet. 

“Did you do the stretches I gave you?”

“Hell yes.” Cass kicked her injured leg back and up and grabbed it with her hand, stretching the muscles. Carefully she repeated the movement with her other leg, balancing on the injured one. Her balance wasn’t 100% back to normal but she figured she was about 80%. 

“I’ll need to check it one more time in a week.”

Walking in place for a moment, Cass tested her leg. “Yeah, alright.”

She was already going back to school tomorrow and work on Tuesday; she’d just walk slower to classes and take the position that required the least movement. She’d go to the intramural softball game on Wednesday but wouldn’t play. “How long do I have to baby it?”

“Just this week, unless it hurts. Does anything feel off or hurt?”

“Nope! It feels great; thanks Donatello.”

“You’re very welcome.” His eyes flicked to Raphael, who tucked his trident into his belt and was out of the room like a shot. “We’ve got training for the next few hours; April said you were fine to hang out for that long?”

“Yeah, I’ve got homework.”

“If you want to give me your laptop I can connect it to our internet and install protective programs.”

Cass pulled her laptop out of her bag, turned on the power, and handed it over.

The tech turtle gave her a surprised look. “You don’t have a password?”

Shrugging, Cass answered, “Nope. I trust my roommates and it's always on me or in a locker when I’m at school. If I’m at a coffee shop or whatever it's with my friends.”

He looked like he was about to give her a lecture but sighed instead; Donatello turned to his computer and plugged in a cord between his machine and hers.

Sitting on the floor, Cass bent over and stretched out her arms to grasp her feet. Standing, she speed-walked around the lab, then loped around again. “It is _so_ nice to walk again,” she sighed to herself. 

Apparently she’d spoken loud enough to be heard because a chuckle met her ears. “You sound like Raph.”

Smiling, Cass hopped up on the cot, swinging her legs back and forth for the sheer pleasure that she could. “Dude does not like being tethered down.”

“That he does not.”

There was a long pause while Donatello worked on her laptop. “What do you guys do in training?”

“Practice, lots and lots of practice.”

“Makes perfect.”

“Something like that.” He handed her laptop back and she put it in her backpack.

“Could I watch?”

“That’s up to Master Splinter, but he usually says ‘yes.’”

“‘Usually’? There are people down here to ask?”

Donatello adjusted his glasses. “When they react positively to us like you did, yes.”

Cass realized she’d been rude. “Uh, sorry.”

He shrugged. “Comes with the territory.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “I have to go, I do not want to be late.”

Grabbing her backpack and hopping off the cot, Cass followed him through the lair (without crutches!) into the training room. She noticed that the living room was empty and found April and Casey in the training room with Michelangelo, Raphael, and Master Splinter. To her surprise, there were two other young women and a young man there as well. 

Stopping at the door, Cass removed her shoes out of reverence for the space before following Donatello over to the mutated rat. She was pretty sure the aged mammal was speaking appreciation with his eyes at her shoe removal and not interrupting his son’s statement that Cass wanted to watch the training session. 

“You have my permission to watch, Miss Lyons; I only request that you do not disrupt the session.”

Nodding, Cass replied, “Thank you sir, I won’t.” She turned and sat back down next to the doorway, figuring it was the most out-of-the-way location. If it wasn’t, someone would tell her.

Nobody did. 

The three strangers spared her a glance and Michelangelo gave her a little wave. Cass figured if the student started it, she could return it and gave him a little wave back. 

She sat in awed silence for over an hour watching everyone train. It appeared that April was advanced enough she was teaching the two young women and man, Casey seemed to be doing his own thing, and the turtles were training with Master Splinter. April seemed to be teaching the humans the basics of self-defense and flight; the turtles were taking instructions from Master Splinter in a complex series of moves. The brothers moved faster than the eye could see. 

It was _beautiful._ The turtles moved with a grace that belied their size (and Raphael’s hulk), and a speed that contradicted their reptilian nature. Cass was entranced. 

A gorgeous orange cat waltzed into the room and straight into her lap; it purred happily as Cass pet it. 

“Hey Klunk, you know you’re not allowed in the dojo!” Mikey called from across the room, expertly dodging an attack from Raphael. 

“I got him!” Cass called. “Sorry little dude, guess you’re not allowed. Probably for your safety.” She picked him up, still purring up a storm, and deposited him outside, closing the door on his sad face. She returned to her seat and to watch the training.

The three humans bowed to April, who returned it, and stepped off the training floor and retrieved water bottles from a nearby mini fridge. They sat with Cass and introduced themselves: Amelia, Krissi, and Zack. Their stories mirrored Cass’: The turtles had saved them. Amelia had been trapped in a fire and Krissi and Zack had been caught in the middle of a bank robbery (Cass remembered that one from the news). 

The three humans made small talk with Cass while they took a short break, all of them watching Splinter work with April, Michelangelo and Donatello fight each other, and Raphael and Casey _wail_ on each other. 

Another hour later and Splinter was dismissing his pupils. Intense respect had begun to fill Cass while she watched them all train. She wanted to learn too; to be able to bolster her courage and possibly fend off a bully in the school yard. 

Michelangelo had his eyes locked on her, rubbing his hands together, tongue in one corner of his grinning mouth, as he exited the training room. “Hey cheesecake, I gotta hit the shower, but I’ll meet you in the living room to tell you about movie night in fifteen minutes?”

She’d forgotten about that. Her mouth stretched into a small smile. “Yeah Michelangelo, that sounds like a plan.”

He beamed and gave her a wink and double finger-guns as he walked past. 

Cass watched, waiting, as almost everyone left the room. “Splinter sir?” she called, walking towards him and Donatello, trying to be careful not to actually interrupt their conversation. 

Furry ears swiveled in her direction, his head following. “Yes Miss Lyons?” he acknowledged her as she arrived. Donatello nodded goodbye as he walked away.

Biting her lower lip, Cass spoke. “I’d like to learn self-defense, like Amelia, Krissi, and Zack are learning; if you or April are willing to teach me.”

He put his walking stick to the floor in front of him, paws atop it contemplatively. Cass felt his eyes search her own, almost looking into her soul. “Why do you wish to learn?”

It was a test, she understood. There were many wrong answers and few right ones. Her first instinct was always best. “I could never hope to be like your sons, or you. I don’t want to. But if I could get away from a bad situation, or have the courage to step into something on the school sidewalk, or in the aisle of the grocery store… I think there needs to be more people in this world willing to help stand up against bullies.”

His dark eyes studied her for a moment, then nodded. “That is a good answer. However, you must understand that there is a small possible element of danger in associating with my sons and I, because of our ninja lifestyle and the enemies we have made. Michelangelo has information prepared, but I want you to be informed before you make a decision.”

She took a moment to think it over, then nodded. “I appreciate the information; it doesn't change my request.”

Master Splinter nodded. “I believe April is willing to take on another student, but I must confer with her first. However, you were injured last week and only just now had your stitches removed. You will wait until Donatello deems you healed enough to begin.”

Cass hid her smile, because after this recovery week she was totally going back to intramural softball. “Yes sir, I will, thank you.”

The old mutant gave her a soft smile. “Your training is not just physically with your body. April and myself shall be addressed as ‘ _sensei’_ while we train you in the _dojo._ ”

“Yes, sensei.”

“Very good. I thank you for respecting our training space by taking off your shoes upon entry.”

“You’re welcome, seemed like a good thing to do.”

He smiled again. “I will confer with April about teaching you and we will inform you of our decision later. I am going to meditate now, please make yourself at home in our lair. If you are hungry please feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Black, beady eyes winked mischievously. “Unless it has someone’s name on it and the words ‘Don’t eat!’”

Cass laughed. “Thank you sir, have a nice day.”

“You as well Miss Lyons; I am happy to see that you have healed quickly and well.”

“Thank you, me too.”

Master Splinter nodded again and exited the dojo. Cass put her tennis shoes back on and wandered into the living room. She located the main TV remote, nicely labeled “Master TV remote,” sitting in an also nicely labeled tupperware container that said “All Remotes - THIS MEANS YOU MIKEY”. There was a list of typed instructions on a piece of paper beneath the large container. Figuring Michelangelo wouldn’t be much longer, she flipped through channels. 

The strong smell of oranges signaled the comedic turtle’s arrival into the living room space. He plopped down on the couch at the opposite end of Cass, rubbing his hands together gleefully, a wide smile plastered on his face. She turned off the TV.

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah! His name is Klunk, he’s my baby.”

“In the sewers?”

Mikey shrugged. “He comes and goes as he pleases.”

Cass took a moment to process that, then shook her head. “So hanging out?” she asked hesitantly.

“Ok dollface, so we’re all party dudes and I’m the partiest dude of them all! We like to have people over as often as we can.”

Cass absolutely failed at imagining Raphael partying, but who was she to judge? She didn’t like flashy parties, but she did enjoy hanging out with her girlfriends on occasion. 

“First off, the drudgey official business. There is a small amount of danger you’re in just by hanging out with us.”

“Because you’re ninjas; Master Splinter mentioned it.”

“Because we have enemies. Now Leo and Donnie figure that most of ‘em won’t attack while we have people over because that’s a lot of covering up that they have to do and a lot of resources to put into it and blah blah blah. Most of our enemies are after _us_ and it’s just too much work to spy, stalk, and kidnap one of our friends.” Michelangelo sat up straighter. “Do you, Cass, accept this slight level of risk involved in hanging out with us?”

“Has it ever happened?”

“Nope.”

“It’s unlikely to happen, right?”

“Yup.”

“Yes, I understand the possible danger.”

“Alright!” Michelangelo pumped his fist and returned to a more comfortable position. “So, back to the good part. Sunday night is usually game night, Saturday night is party night, and we try to have a movie night sometime during the rest of the week. Donnie made an app for both Apple and Android phones, and most other phones support it too. It’s kinda like the old message boards - ” he paused, then continued when Cass nodded her understanding and pulled out her phone. “- and Slack and Discord where there’s different threads for everything under the bright sun. The main function is for everyone to say if they can come to hang out or not because we don’t want to lose a ton of people just wandering around the sewers, and what night works for them. And whatever other interests they have, there’s subforums for people to talk about them. It’s called _TurtleTalk_ , all one word.” She found the app in the list, the icon was of a goofy, cartoony turtle with bright yellow eyes. The highlighter yellow-green of its skin reminded Cass of those ‘Slow, children playing’ turtle neighborhood signs. Michelangelo stopped his spiel while they watched it load, then when the prompt came up, he supplied the password as, “Cowabunga!1987.”

When the app prompted her to create a log-in, Cass closed the app, clicked off her phone, and stuck it in her pocket. She’d do that later, right now she was tired and just wanted to sleep. “Thanks, Michelangelo.”

“Dudette, nobody but Dad calls me by my full name, everybody calls me Mikey. Please don’t call me ‘Michelangelo,’ it makes me think I’m in trouble.” The deliquinet smile on his face said he was _always_ making trouble. 

“Oh, ok.” 

“So, are you gonna stay for game night?”

She would if she had too; no one had talked about how she was getting home. Cass was not a socializer, especially with a group of mostly complete strangers, and even more so when she was super tired. “I actually need to get home. I haven’t been sleeping well and I need to go back to school and work tomorrow.”

His smile narrowed. “Oh, bummer. Who’s taking you home?”

“Nobody has said anything yet.”

“Hn. Let’s see. I always host when people come over, April and Casey haven’t said anything, Donnie’s got a science experiment or other going on… Raph said he wasn’t coming tonight, I’ll ask him to take you home.”

Michelangelo was up and away while Cass was still processing ‘April and Casey haven’t said anything.’ Part of her didn’t want to bother Raphael any more than caring for her might already have, though he’d never acted like he wanted to shirk his responsibility for her. Besides, Michelangelo would totally talk her ear off if he drove her home, as he’d just proved. April and Casey would most likely engage her in polite conversation again, which was and had been nice of them. Really, Cass had hit her limit of social engagement for the day. Raphael was probably the _best_ option to take her home. 

The orange-banded turtle returned a few moments later, his red-banded brother behind him; Raphael sported a small scowl. The stoic turtle didn’t seem _too_ off-put that he’d been roped into taking her home. He wasn’t full-on grimacing or rigid or anything that gave off actual anger vibes. 

“Have a good night Cass!” Michelangelo waved as he moved toward the kitchen, probably to prepare for tonight. 

“Goodnight,” she called after him. 

“Ready?” Raphael grunted. 

Standing, Cass grabbed her backpack. “Yeah. Um, thanks for taking me home. Sorry to interrupt your evening.”

The bulky turtle only shrugged one shoulder and turned, heading for the elevator for the garage; Cass followed. 

It was awkward in the small space of the elevator, but she’d already spent how much time in his arms while he carried her through the sewers? Twice? Cass simply stayed silent and kept her eyes forward. 

He motioned to the large garbage truck with the words “Tartaruga Bros,” scrawled on the side, lime green on dark green, and Cass hauled herself up into the passenger seat. 

After he’d pulled out and closed the garage door, Cass cleared her throat and earned a quick side glance. “You, um, don’t have to make small talk with me. I don’t think you want to; it’s just that everyone else has. Which is nice of them, but I’m tired.”

“Good ta know.”

Raphael didn’t ask for directions and she didn’t offend him by offering. Cass leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes; they rode in mostly comfortable silence. When Cass exited the vehicle, she wished the turtle goodnight and received a terse response. Raphael did wait to drive away until she’d entered the building. 

Cass had dinner, then went to bed early, finally sleeping decently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Trivia 1: I toyed with April and Casey not being available to take Cass down to the lair and therefore Raphael had to meet her at the closest available manhole and carry her that long way… But I felt like that was forcing them to spend time all close together at a point where neither of them had feelings for the other. So what was the point? And the complication of A) leaving the crutches in the sewer or B) Raphael running while one of them carried them. Like, no, just too many complications. 
> 
> Chapter Trivia 2: So back in Chapter 5 I had Don put his phone number into Cass’ contacts in case she had any questions, right? So why did I not have Capril give her their phone numbers too? So at first Don was coordinating getting Cass picked up between Capril and Cass. So why did I have him confirm “April said you were good to hang for a few hours during practice?” Wtf Thiah… pay attention. (It's all fixed now, ha.)
> 
> Chapter Trivia 3: I didn’t plan the Cut the Rope joke.
> 
> Chapter Trivia 4: Originally it was Amy and Krissi, no Zack, and dialogue between the three women. 
> 
> I started this on fucking Christmas Day 2019 and it I finally finished it at 1 am April 2nd. Usually writing a chapter takes me about two weeks, then another two weeks to tweak it and be happy with it. Also, part of this chapter was written fucking _eleven years ago_. It just… didn’t want to be written, especially the scene in the living room and Raph taking Cass home.


	8. Lair, Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thanks to:  
> \- guardiankrystal, stonyfan_16 and avenger233 for the bookmark  
> \- Peggy and stonyfan_16 for the comments  
> \- whomever subscribed (AO3 doesn’t show me who you are)  
> \- stony_fan16, Rad, BellamyHawkins, and the guests who left kudos!!
> 
> THANK YOU so very much!!
> 
> ~A/N: Any MCU discussion is NOT based on movie in the real world.

She finally slept decently that whole week, sneaking in naps when her roommates weren’t home to ask why she needed them. Cass eventually got around to making a profile on the _TurtleTalk_ app and poked her nose into some of the subform discussions, reading a little bit about a few topics she found interesting, and of course the run-down for newbies. 

The turtles had actual _jobs_ : Michel - Mikey was the children’s entertainer _Cowabunga Carl_ (she could totally see that, honestly), Donatello worked with a tech company and did odd scientific and tech jobs, and Raphael helped Casey with automotive repair and had a small side-business doing small electronics repair through April’s antique store.

Having homework was always a good reason to not join in when the turtles had people over twice during that week. Not knowing what to say to her roommates about her whereabouts was another. If Cass left the apartment, it was for school, work, or hanging with her roommates and their friends. Sure she went out and had fun, and most of those people would call her ‘friend,’ but Cass only actually felt close to her roommates. She also wasn’t sure how long or often “group project” would cover her sudden new excursions outside in the world. She’d already had to lie about getting her stitches removed.

She could just say she was hanging out with classmates that she’d gotten to know during real class projects.

She went with group project this time; it was easier. 

Attending her last check-up with Donatello, and it also being a training day, was a good reason to go.

Cass stood just a little ways apart from the dozen and a half or so people gathered near an ‘abandoned’ building that the turtles actually _owned_. She’d read about it on the _TurtleTalk_ app: They’d saved the money and, about a year ago, bought the building through a shell corporation Donatello had set up. Then they’d spent about a month giving it a few access tunnels to the sewers. Each week people slowly gathered inside the building (or other similar locations), their arrivals staggered, and Donatello would send a random person self-deleting instructions on how to get to the lair. 

It was extremely ingenious and Cass couldn’t help but feel that it was more of a strategic planning and outside Donatello’s brand of genius. Oh sure, the tech part was all the tall turtle. But the different locations, the different directions, staggering arrivals, removing text evidence? 

Maybe this was the mysterious fourth brother’s work? Leonardo?

Nervous with the amount of new people around her, Cass sat on a slab of concrete off to the side and half-played games on her phone while they talked. 

“I really wish they’d make a movie detailing Steve’s life with Peggy. And how that doesn’t fuck up the current timeline.”

“Y’know, _Peggy_ is just the _perfect_ name.”

“Yeah, we know, _Peg_.” One girl elbowed another in a friendly manner. “You keep mentioning that. Every time we talk MCU.”

The girl in question fluffed her hair. 

Cass smiled at their camaraderie. 

“Hey Mark, read any new Stony fics lately?”

“Thor is sooooo dreamy.”

She thought Banner was pretty attractive, herself. (Nobody but her girlfriend would ever know that.) Cass thought the MCU movies were pretty decent but didn’t really get into the “meta” or online “fandom life” of the series. Sure, she read theories here and there and could hold her own in a general conversation, but really she just didn’t have time to go too deep down the rabbit hole. 

Other people’s comments were always fun though. 

“Naw, it’s gotta be sixteen years after and here’s why…” 

“Oh hey, issue #233 finally came out!! Remember how they kept dropping hints? It retells the _Guardian Crystal_ storyline! Remember how it… I wonder how they’re going to adapt it to this incarnation…” 

“Hey everybody!” an older voice called out, cutting through the chatter. 

Cass clicked her phone off and tucked it into her pocket, jumped off the concrete slab, and grabbed her backpack off the ground. 

The speaker, a man with dark skin and who was easily a good fifteen years older than herself, said, “I’m Mikel. Donnie’s going to be sending instructions shortly. We’re a little early tonight because someone has a check-up.” Hm, that’d be her; nice of Donatello not to mention her name. “Now, we have a few newcomers in the group tonight. So what isn’t on _TurtleTalk_ as a safety measure is that I’m going to confirm everyone present against a list Don gave me. So if everyone will gather over there, when I say your name, please move over here beside me.”

Another piece of strategic intelligence. 

Cass recognized Amelia, Krissi, and Zach from a few days ago. She learned that the ones that had been talking about the MCU were Kiera, Mark, Marcus, and Peg; they looked like they were a few years older than herself. Amara and Emily looked like they were in a relationship from the way they stood close, held hands, and leaned on each other. There were also a half a dozen other ‘adults’ a good five to ten years older than her that had been chatting together. Two other older people stood a little apart from everyone else; Cass guessed they were new as well. 

Once Mikel confirmed the people with Donatello, he got the first of many text instructions and the group moved off into one of the tunnels. Cass had gone to the thrift store and gotten shoes and clothes that she wouldn’t mind getting dirty or stinky. A glance at the rest of the group told her most of them had probably done the same. 

It took them a good twenty minutes to get to the lair and a few of them were out of breath (not Cass though). The door was open and Mic - Mikey was waiting for them, face full of his wide smile; he offered greetings to everyone. Most of the humans made themselves comfy in the living room area but a few of them went off in the same direction. The _TurtleTalk_ chat for today had said that training was first, so Cass carefully watched where that group went before heading to Donatello’s lab.

“He’s expecting you Cassie, so just go on in,” Mikey tossed to her across the room. She was about to inform him she disliked the nickname but discovered he was well into playing host. She chose to simply wave her thanks and entered the lab. “Donatello?” she called out into the large space.

Obviously having expected her, Donatello pointed at the medical corner, indicating she should sit on a cot, without looking up from his computer and one-handed typing. Cass dumped her backpack on the floor, jumped onto the nearest cot, pulled up her pant leg, and didn’t have to wait long for the tall turtle to join her. “Any complications?” he asked, pulling his goggles down. 

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t hurt, doesn’t twinge, doesn’t - ”

“You asked if there were complications and I said no.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. 

“I remind you of Raph.”

“Yup.”

Cass rolled her eyes and Donatello removed his goggles, chuckling. Swiveling on his chair, he grabbed one of the typical plastic hammers. Knowing exactly what he needed, Cass positioned her leg and nodded her permission. The medic turtle struck her knee a few times, then nodded in satisfaction. He put the tool away and turned back to her, motioning for her to roll her pant leg back down. “I don’t recommend fully returning to strenuous activity, but I guess that’s a futile suggestion.” Cass tried not to smile. “Don’t go too hard back at it, ok?”

“Only as the doctor orders!”

Donatello half-heaved a sigh and didn’t truly hide his smile. Then his face turned serious, he leaned forward and looked her dead in the eyes. “You’re perfectly fine physically, your leg has healed very well. But how are you mentally? Raph told me you had a nightmare when you first arrived at the lair, which is to be expected. And I remember you had a pillow that looked very recently used on the couch when we dropped by for your check-up. And you reacted negatively last week when I removed your stitches. You went through a trauma, being attacked, and your mind and body will respond accordingly. The lair is a judgement-free zone and we have a few friends who can help you, there’s nothing wrong with needing help and asking for it. But we can’t get you that help unless you’re honest with me and tell me you need that help.”

Cass swallowed, overwhelmed at Donatello’s passion. She looked over his shoulder, embarrassed. Then she forced herself to meet his eyes; this wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. Yeah he was a complete stranger, but the turtles were quickly falling to the ‘friends’ category. And she couldn’t go to a normal psychiatrist. “I, um, yeah, I didn’t sleep well that first week. I didn’t have any bad nightmares after that first one. Last week,” she swallowed again, this time against the memory of the Purple Dragon’s knife biting her leg. Cass focused on the bright lights of the lab above her head as her leg twitched at the memory. She inhaled, then looked at Donatello again. “Your scissors reminded me of… of…” 

He carefully placed a hand on her knee. “You don’t have to finish that sentence, it’s ok.”

Blinking away memories, Cass inhaled and refocused on him. “Ok. Thanks.” He nodded. “I - I think I’m ok, but yeah, if you’ve got - somebody, that’s a good idea.”

Nodding, he rolled his chair back, grabbed a piece of paper, and handed it to her. “We got very lucky that we know a man and a woman to be able to work with different comfort levels. They’re both very good; my brothers and I talk to them on occasion.” She was pretty sure he meant that statement to exclude the gruff Raphael. “These are their personal cell phone numbers, for the obvious reason. They may not pick up because your number is an unknown one so just leave a message.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

“If you need a few minutes to collect yourself, you can totally stay in my lab for a little bit.” He stood, then sideeyed her as a smile crept across his face. “Don’t think I have to tell you not to touch anything.”

The corner of her mouth tilted up, “I’d much rather you compare me to Raphael than Michel - Mikey.”

Donatello stood and stretched. Cass took a deep breath, then hopped off the cot, grabbed her backpack, and followed him out of the lab. “You don’t have to use my full name either, it _is_ a bit of a mouthful, so whatever you're comfortable with,” he tossed over his shoulder. Cass shrugged. Pointing at the door she’d paid attention to earlier, he said, “That’s the girls’ locker room. The _dojo_ is through that door.”

Nodding, she vocalized her appreciation, and headed into the locker room. 

Entering through the door Donatello had indicated, Cass found Amelia and Krissi inside - and that they hadn’t changed yet. They lept up and started to as soon as they saw her. Cass chose a locker, then studied the locker room.

It had the same open feel as the outer lair, the designs on the wall also matching. The turtles had brought in lockers and benches, and showers and toilets had also been installed. The shower heads were along one wall but curtains allowed for privacy. Looking around, Cass was grateful to discover that painted plywood and curtains had been added to make changing cubbies. 

Cass again followed the other women out and into the dojo, the other humans trickling in behind them. April, Master Splinter, Donatello, and Mikey were already there. A glance around the room found Raphael and Casey missing. Splinter moved away from April to begin training with the turtles and the woman walked over to the entering group. The redhead introduced Cass to everyone else and then instructed them to warm up. Cass noticed, with just a touch of pride, that she warmed up better than everyone else did… Thank you years of softball and volleyball. 

Her addition to the small group made the numbers odd, so while everyone else paired up for stretching, April joined her. (Also saving her from being the awkward third wheel amongst a bunch of strangers.) Cass appreciated the action, even if April was still basically a stranger herself, she was much less so than the other humans around them. As they warmed up, April asked her about her classes and her injury. In turn, Cass asked her about her reporting job and the antique store. 

Next, April instructed the others to practice the _kata_ , or _form_ as April explained, that they’d learned last week, while she got Cass caught up on the basics. Her group had only started about a month ago so Cass wasn’t far behind. April told her about the _kiai_ and Cass grinned, explaining that it reminded her of the yell a spiker did in volleyball. April said that was exactly what the _kiai_ was. She was also to call April _‘sensei’_ during training. (That was something Cass was going to need to remember.)

 _Sensei_ showed her the two starting _kata_ and Cass mimicked April’s movements, repeating the forms several times. 

It wasn’t easy by any stretch, nor was it advanced enough to actually be hard, and a decade and a half of sports apparently was pretty good preparation. She blushed as April frequently praised her, then paired her off with Amelia and Krissi to practice. The slightly older women seemed to easily accept her, which Cass appreciated. The redhead moved between her pupils, praising and correcting as needed. 

An hour later, April called for a break. To keep her limbs loose, Cass swung her arms back and forth a few times above and below her head and kicked back both legs to stretch them. Zach went to the mini fridge and passed out water bottles. Cass indicated he could throw one to her, catching it as he did. She sat near the half-dozen other people in April’s class, listening to their short conversation, watching the turtles continue their training. They were so graceful, powerful, and entrancing. Cass had a hard time pulling her attention away when April called for the small group to return to training. They trained for another hour, then hit the showers. 

She again followed people out into the lair and into the living room. Cass was pretty sure a few _more_ people had arrived in the last few hours. The lair wasn’t full by any means and they were all friends of the turtles… But there were lots of strangers around her. 

A loud, raucous laugh echoed in the room and Cass noticed that Raphael and Casey were now present, Raphael and Donatello joined Mikey in the kitchen and helping with preparations. April was shortly behind her coming from the locker room and made a beeline to her boyfriend, kissing him hello and engaging him and Raphael in conversation. The older woman had been kind earlier in staying near her but Cass didn’t want to appear clingy or needy, so she found a spot along the wall between the living room and kitchen. She had a pretty good view of the open room from here. 

Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in the multitude of loud people. 

“Cass, what’cha want to drink?” Mikey called from across the large expanse, listing several choices.

Her mind latched onto ‘hot coco’: It was the wrong season, but if he was offering…? Cass walked into the kitchen and answered Mic-Mikey’s raised eye… ridge. “I like my hot coco made a certain way. And if you’re going to list it, ain’t nobody going to judge me.”

“Nope, not here! I’ll have some too! No time is the wrong time for coco.” Jovially the orange-banded turtle passed the coco container across the counter to her. 

Cass smiled at his enthusiasm, spooning out a significant amount of powder into her cup. Mikey turned on the faucet and motioned to her, but Cass shook her head. Figuring their hospitality at least extended to a mug of milk, she opened the fridge and poured some into her mug. “Makes it richer,” she explained to Mikey. 

“Mmm, yeah!” he agreed excitedly. 

A grunt sounded from the other side of the kitchen and she turned to catch a red bandana trailing behind the grumpy turtle.

“Ignore Raph, he gets into _moods_ sometimes.” One baby blue eye winked at her.

“Fuckin’ do _not_ Mikey!”

She didn’t look, but she was sure the hulking turtle was giving them the bird, even with only three fingers. 

Mikey just rolled his eyes. 

Shaking her head, Cass declined Mikey’s offer to share the microwave to heat their coco. “I prefer to drink it right away, not wait for it.”

“Aaah. To each their own!”

A few moments later, she sipped her coco and sat, smirking at Mikey blowing on his coco. He winked at her and Cass pretended not to notice. 

As people settled into the varying furniture, Mikey handed out bowls of steaming popcorn. Cass pulled out a beanbag and watched April and Casey get cozy in an overly large single chair. She accepted a small bowl of popcorn from Mikey and inhaled the fantastic scent of extra butter. 

The lights were dimmed, the movie started, and Donatello arrived a good ten minutes later. 

Partway through, someone got up to use the bathroom and grumbled when their blanket went missing, _again._

A gravely, deep rumble was heard and the mumbling quieted. 

The movie ended, the room cleaned up, and people spoke their goodbyes to the turtles. Cass grabbed her bag and waited to follow the crowd back through the tunnels when Mikey called for her. “Cassie, hey Cassie girl, I gotta question for ya.” He hopped over the couch and jogged to her, his infectious enthusiasm making her smile. Donatello was trailing behind him. “They’ll wait for you.”

“Yeah? Uh, hey Mi - Mikey, I prefer to be called just Cass.”

“Can do Just Cass!” he shot double finger guns at her and she couldn’t help but smile. “So, actually Donnie and I have a question for you.” 

Donate- nodded. “You know we go out patrolling most evenings.”

 _Good thing they do, too_. She nodded and gestured for him to continue. 

“If they’re able, we ask our friends to be on-call if we need help if we have a situation in their area. Actually, you’re in an area we don’t have covered.” The tech turtle tapped the gadget on his wrist, then pointed at the array of TV screens nearby. A partial map of New York was now displayed on the screen. Cass recognized her metropolis and blinked in surprise. The area around her apartment was colored gray for several blocks, surrounded by wide splotches of green. “The green splotches are where we’ve got people to help.”

“And I’m in the dead zone.”

“Yeah babe! Wanna help?” Mikey spoke up. 

“What exactly do you need?”

“Mostly to be a human face if the person _does_ freak out but _doesn’t_ faint. Most of the time I can charm ‘em, but not always. ” 

“How, uh, how frequently do you guys need help? I’m a college student and as much as I do want to help, I can’t have all my nights interrupted.”

Dona- shook his head. “We’re more likely to be handling gangs and thefts than anything with victims involved.” He played with his wrist gadget again. “In the last seven five years your area has had… six people that we’ve come in direct contact with. So very highly unlikely we’ll call you. There’s no pressure and no expectation, we just extend the request.”

The orange-clad turtle was bouncing at this point. “Say you’ll help!”

“Uh…”

“Mikey, we talked about you being over-exuberant.”

“Sorry not sorry!”

Cass scratched her shoulder. “I could probably be, what did you say, on-call? Most nights. Just not Monday or Wednesday night, I work early Tuesdays and Thursdays. Is that allowed? To block off some nights?”

“Oh yes, for certain,” Don nodded, tapping on his gadget again. “If you’d like, you can come down to the lair some time and I can run you through some scenarios.”

“Uh, sure?”

“Cool chica, we’ll talk to you about when on the _TurtleTalk_ app! Night Just Cass! Thanks!” He waved and was gone.

“I’m not sure I’m related to him,” Don mumbled, shaking his head. Cass chuckled lightly, unsure if she was actually supposed to hear that. “Thank you Cass, we really do appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Night.”

“Have a good one.”

She exited the lair and joined the group waiting for her. The trek back through the sewers was much quieter than earlier, Cass guessed they were talked-out and it was decently late in the evening. She responded to a few goodbyes as people left in groups. When she arrived at her apartment, she checked in on the _TurtleTalk_ app and immediately received a goodnight from Mikey. _‘They must monitor this, make sure we all get home safely. That’s - really thoughtful.’_

Her girlfriend teasingly asked if she’d met any cute boys; Cass rolled her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws this up* It's done, I hate looking at it, I'm calling it finished and moving on! PLEASE feel free to message me or comment about grammatical mistakes. My brain is bleeding looking at this. There will probably be minor fix-it tweaks to this chapter. I'll make a note if I do anything drastic. *Glares at inspiration*
> 
> Y’know what, I forgot Cass needed a last check-up! Ha. I think that might be why this chapter gave me so much trouble. And her getting back into a good sleep cycle… Damn. Actually, there were a LOT of things that needed to happen in this chapter that I plain forgot about. :/ That’s a significant portion of why this chapter was such a struggle to write. Also, writers cannot do math - or forget about it, ha - is totally legit. 
> 
> This chapter goes on the ‘absolutely MOST HATED’ list.
> 
> Knew how I wanted it to end and just… couldn’t write the Mikey-Don-Cass talk. 
> 
> I honestly don't know if I'm going to get back on track with posting on time... Let's go with probably not. Chapter 9 is about 85% finished. I thought it was done but after writing 8 I want to add some bits. Shouldn't take _too_ long. 10 is a repeat -> different POV of 9, so in theory that one won't take long. (HAAAA.) 11 IS DONE and it's up there as one of my faves. 12 is somewhere off in Lala Land and bits of 13 are written. Which brings the fic to mid- _July_ and irl it's early-fucking- _October_. (8 is supposed to be early May.) Chapter fucking EIGHTEEN(/19, same day) would bring the fic to early October. So yeah, I _certainly won't_ be getting back on track. (Alternatively, 18 is my FAVORITE chapter thus far. ^.^) I'm seeing some artists on Tumblr do Turtletober so I might get some motivation there. 
> 
> I have a Tumblr where I ramble about RD if you want totally irregular "I'm writing the FUCKING WRONG CHAPTER" updates. [Clicky the link](https://thiah-2.tumblr.com/tags)! (Warning: I swear a lot there.)
> 
> Here's hoping!


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